Bleed: A Tragedy in Three Parts
by Petals Open to the Moon
Summary: Aster Dawson didn't consider herself a remarkable person. Neither did her family. Yet she would never understand how the first person to appreciate her would also become her worst nightmare. Told partially through her diary.
1. Chapter 1

**Part I: Welcome to Hell**

* * *

 **Chapter 1 (Prologue)**

The vampire ran his fingers along the wood. "Very good," he whispered. "I declare, Lignin gets better every year."

"Is it long enough, my lord?" asked the woman. Her face was hidden in shadow.

"Yes. Better to have it too long than too short." He smiled up at her. "You see? I _do_ know about these things."

A hollow laugh. "Yes, my lord."

"Make it satin. Silver and crimson, with an added varnish on the lid. I want it to be…" The vampire lifted a white hand, searching for a word. "Stunning. Regal."

The woman stepped forward, still in shadow, and made another quick measurement. The tape coiled about her fingers like it was alive.

The vampire was sighing. "I confess I wish legend attached itself more closely to our kind," he said regretfully. "It must be so luxurious to sleep in one of these." His hand came down tenderly on the coffin—for it _was_ a coffin—as if imagining his own banished rest. "But then, we should fear the sun, as well. And I _do_ love it so."

His red eyes were dreamy, clouded. Then, with a gesture, he motioned the woman away. "Not a word," he whispered after her. "Remember…"

* * *

 **This is an old story that some of you may remember. I had actually forgotten about it until Diamonds and Bones brought it back to my attention. Hope you enjoy... or sort of. :( It's a sad tale.**


	2. Chapter 2

**" _How can I pretend that I don't see_**

 ** _What you hide so carelessly?"_**

 ** _August 23_ _rd_ _, 2008_**

 _I have never understood why one person, if he is against another, should not seek to conceal his dislike, but flaunt it, as if the abused were not already aware of the fact._

 _But such is the cruelty of some. And such was the spite of my uncle. Dear Uncle David. A loving father, a doting husband, and a source of endless anxiety to his niece._

 _But there! I've done it again. I've failed to introduce myself or even explain my purpose in keeping a diary. Forgive my rambling. My name is Aster. Aster Michelle Dawson, and you'd darn well better forget about the "Michelle." It only brings up memories I'd rather forget. Memories like a stuffy junior-high classroom, an overly-sympathetic teacher, and a girl with the same name calling me "Stick legs" down the hallway. My school was filled with Michelles, and they all talked the same, dressed the same, walked the same, and as far as I knew, they all could've popped right out of a mold._

 _But I'm lying again. My uncle would say "evasive." I like that word. Evasive. I'll use it for_ him, _too, in the future. The real reason I hate my middle name—the_ main _reason—is because of "the tragedy." That's what everyone called it: "the tragedy." As if the word held any meaning for an 11-year-old who'd just lost her parents. As if I wanted to see them, lying prostrate in coffins, with the blood sucked from their faces._

" _Aster," my dad would whisper. "Star. You were named for a star."_

" _But there isn't one_ called _'Aster', daddy. I looked it up."_

" _Then we'll make our own," my mom said. And we'd all go outside together, and my dad would lift me to his shoulder, pointing out my star to me. "There it is, sweetie. That big, bright one."_

 _My parents were dreamers, and like most dreamers, they refused to face reality. Refused to die, even when the truck crushed their van, twisting it around a lamp post. Even when the doctors shook their heads, reaching for medicine to numb the terrible pain. I was ushered in, sobbing, but I couldn't even hold their mangled hands before Death took them forever._

 _They called me Aster. Michelle was thrown in "for fun," my mom said, laughing. It was her own name. But I didn't want her name, anymore than I wanted my father's. It belonged to them only, and I'd let it move on, like everything else. I am Aster. Aster Dawson. I was born on June 14_ _th_ _, 1990. I will die in fifty years, if I'm lucky. Then again, a truck may crush_ me, _too._

 _Did I promise I wouldn't cry? Good._

 _P.S. Random fact: I'm going to the university soon. Mid-September, to be exact. It starts later than I'm used to. I'm counting the days, though, on a chain I made from paper. Childish, I know. But if your life was like mine, you'd be counting them, too…_

 ** _August 27_ _th_**

 _I'm not going to put down days, so don't depend on them. I wouldn't even put the dates, either, unless I thought it was important. A planner is for days and dates. Not a diary. A diary is for your heart, which isn't numbered like a calendar. Although I think Uncle David's might be… He's my dad's brother, but they might as well have been strangers for all the resemblance. Physically, it's hopeless. My dad was tall (like me) and had black, ramrod-straight hair (also like me). His eyes were a clear, starry blue. He was born in Columbia, and his warm, rich accent spoke for itself._

 _My uncle, on the other hand, is sallow, balding, and badly in need of a shave most days. Not that he's a sloppy man; he just thinks a "grizzled" look suits him. Take away my father's reserve and sweetness, and you have a pretty clear picture._

 _My mother? I don't want to talk about her. Not now, anyway. I've said enough._

 _Susie (that's my cousin) is squalling downstairs. I'd better go see what she wants. Quick side-note: my aunt's name is May, and my other cousin is Brandon. The boys hate me. The girls don't. We get along._

 _August 28_ _th_

 _I'll go with that old cliché: "I've got some good news, and I've got some bad news." Only I believe in being positive first thing, so we'll tackle that first. Good news is, I got the room I wanted for the university, and only three other girls instead of four. Plus, there's a pizzeria and movie theater nearby, along with a dancing club up the hill. Who said you can't have it all?_

 _Bad news: Bad for no one except me, actually, which makes it even worse. Aunt May received a brochure in the mail, inviting our family on a round-trip tour of Italy. She insists she didn't give our address or number out, but Uncle David doesn't believe her. "You're forever sifting through trash," he grumbles. "Why didn't I leave that damned computer where I found it?"_

" _But just think of it, David!" she whines. (A lot of women here whine.) "Such an opportunity for the kids! And Brandon could sign up for Italian next year…"_

" _Not on your life," says a voice behind the Wii._

" _I don't have the money, May."_

" _Oh, but you_ know _I've been saving up—"_

" _Can't you spend it on something worthwhile?"_

" _David, you are so materialistic at times…"_

 _This went on for a while, but I'll spare you by saying my aunt did win, eventually. She won him over by promising to get him that new car he's been hounding her for, but to "keep the hideous thing in the garage, so the neighbors don't think we're over-extravagant."_

" _But what about Aster?" Susie piped from the couch, just when I was leaving._

" _Of course she'll come," he snapped. "Do you think I trust her with the house?"_

 _Thank you, Uncle. This remark hurt me more than I let on, but I ignored it good-naturedly and left to my room. He calls my silence "sullen and juvenile." I call him "pompous and controlling." The door slams, and I'm left with my thoughts._

 ** _Later,_**

 _Can't forget what happened this afternoon. I don't want to go to Italy, but there's no other option. I have no immediate family to think of, and my uncle doesn't have time to pack me off with someone else. The brochure is sounding better and better to them. It's at a ridiculously low price, but offers everything a normal tour would. Everyone's packing. Everyone's excited. I sit in my room, ignored. My friends have left for college weeks ago, and I'm stuck traveling Europe with a family who doesn't want me._

 _I look at myself in the mirror, but I don't see what I want to see. My skin is dark, my eyes are dark, my hair is dark. I'm a dark, shadowy thing, and I refuse to belong anywhere. I'm brave, strong, and confident, but nobody knows it but me. And I'm still skeptical at times._

 _It's very cloudy outside, but you can't see the stars in New York, anyway. My curtains remain closed, and I'm scribbling under a feeble lamp. What will I find in Italy? What will Italy find in_ me..?


	3. Chapter 3

**_August 31_ _st_ _,_**

" _I thought we were going on vacation!" my uncle explodes. "This is just like New York, only three times the crowds, and_ I don't know a damn thing they're saying!"

 _My aunt tells him to hush, then smiles at me. We've been waiting near the tarmac for thirty minutes, and still we haven't been able to find a rental station or where to get a taxi. I'm sitting on my suitcase, watching Brandon pick his nose with a pencil eraser. It's very hot here. Hot and miserable. I half-expected to see a cathedral as we zoomed into the airport, or the ghost of Michelangelo, at least. But there was nothing but babbling voices, jammed crowds, and sun—way too much sun. Is it just me, or is it brighter here than in New York? It virtually swallows the sky, leaving nothing but a faint, washed-out blue. Clouds are non-existent, and so is deodorant, apparently._

 _Three hours later,_

 _Finally! I can rest, and be alone, and THINK. They've all gone to the café across the street, where the hotel staff says you can get a nice dish of pasta and raspberry torte. I'm not hungry, although my last meal was a hurried breakfast at 7:00 this morning. I want to lie here on the bed, feeling the breeze, and write what I can before they return._

 _We left yesterday, at midmorning, and arrived in Venice a few hours ago. It's evening now, and not so hot as I described earlier. I want to go outside, look at the stars, but there's a group of boys on the street, lounging in black jackets, and speaking lewdly to anyone who passes by. I'll pass on that. What could be worse than being abducted in a foreign country?_

 _Oh, shut up, Aster. You're being morbid. But such is my mood. I've been so angry about so many things for so long… My parents were poor. I never had nice things growing up. But I had_ them, _and that was something. When they died, I was destitute, and not just financially. My uncle's family doesn't understand this. They don't understand death, because they've never known it. And because they don't understand it, it gives them the false right to jeer at others._

 _Great. I'm crying again. Another sign I'm going mad. I never cry. And when I do, I resent anyone who sees me. My pain is my own._

 _There's a porter here in the hotel. An assistant to us clumsy foreigners. He's a young boy, with dreamy eyes, and riotous, black hair. He smiled at me while carrying our luggage upstairs, and I smiled back._ It would have been nice, _I was telling him._ If I was a different girl. _But I'm Aster, and I'm afraid to love again. My pain is my own._


	4. Chapter 4

**_September 1_ _st_**

 _So much to say. It's good for me, considering how little I've written so far. My dad would have loved the idea of a diary, if he'd had the time. "Just don't brood too much, honey," I can hear him saying. No need for that. My mind is still swimming with what we saw today. I wish I had the words. I wish I could tell you clearly, but I'll do my best._

 _We got to sleep a decent amount, arriving at a small church by 9:45. My aunt fluttered on about being lost, but I assured her we only had to wait. Sure enough, others began to arrive. Most were American, like us, but I thought I saw a few swarthy Italians. All spoke English, however, and we chatted easily._

 _Fifteen minutes later, she came. I didn't realize she was the tour guide until she told us. She could've been anyone: a model, perhaps, or a hooker who preferred daylight. Her entire body was tightly outfitted in black, excepting her flashy silver belt. Her heels were at least five inches, also silver. Her hair was obviously dyed. No female could get that color naturally. It was a dark brown, tinted with red, and a few strands of black weaving through. Her eyes were—I squinted—violet? Hazel? It was impossible to tell, with the sun blinding me. But I could tell_ this _much: she was extraordinarily beautiful._

 _She edged towards us, keeping away from the light. I noted her pale skin. Poor thing. Perhaps she was ultra sensitive? Then again, maybe lack of sun was her secret._

" _Scusilo! scusilo!" she called in her sweet voice. "Ha potuto tutto depositarsi giù, prego? Siete tutto l'inglesi? Which of you speak English?"_

 _A good part of us nodded our heads, and her face brightened. An old German couple stood to the left, struggling to comprehend. The woman made her way quickly to them and handed over a crisp brochure guide. It was in German, I noticed. So were the words that flowed smoothly from her painted lips. I saw my aunt nod sagely to my uncle. "You see?" I can hear her thinking. "And to think you didn't want to go."_

 _Our dazzling tour guide spoke to us again, adding in a spice of German here and there. She's flawless in all three languages, and yet I cannot place her accent. She fits perfectly with each one as she speaks it._

" _I'm Heidi," she told us brightly. "Thank you all so much for coming. I presume you all received a similar brochure? Good."_

 _I remember Brandon pulling on my shirt, and pushing him away. The tour was starting._

" _Volterra, Italy…" she began. Her hands spread out, as if to embrace the city. "Where can we start? How about origins? You've heard, perhaps, of the Etruscans, the tribes that influenced a great deal of Roman architecture… before they were driven out of it, of course. They called the city "Velathri." The Romans renamed it, "Volaterrae." But we'll stick with Volterra. You can still see some Etruscan tombs, actually, although not included in the tour. Try visiting the Valle Bona area before you leave." She grinned at us. "For the more morbid among you."_

 _We followed her down a long, winding street. I wondered that her heels didn't get caught in the stones, but she strode ahead of us with perfect confidence. "We are in the province of Pisa, as you know," she was saying. "I'm sure that strikes a chord with many. The Tower is not in our way, though. However, we do have quite a few spectacular sights. This includes paintings by Santi di Tito, found in the cathedral Santa Maria Assunta. And then there's our beautiful Palazzo down at the Priori."_

 _I still couldn't believe her English. It was better than most Americans. Talk about embarrassing._

 _But I forgot about this soon. There was so much else to think of… to see. Painted demons, painted cherubs; lions with grimy wings and angels with stone noses broken off; towering chapels that reared high above us, glorifying the Most High. Italy was a bewildering mixture of the ancient and the modern, the crumbling and the rebuilt. I would turn from a molding fountain to a finely preserved replica of St. Peter, gazing down on us with a sad smile. I think I stared at him longer than the rest. It fascinated me to think what else those frozen eyes had seen._

 _I don't know if Uncle David or Aunt May enjoyed themselves. I assume_ she _did, from her chatter. My uncle was merely tolerant of the beauty around him. Bored. Traveling hadn't changed him one bit. And my cousins? Well, they were children. They behaved and reacted as children do. On the whole, they behaved themselves (with a caramel gelato added as a bribe)._

 _I'm not sure, but I think Heidi has taken a liking to me. She was always coming up to me in the crowd, while the rest admired the sights, and answering any questions I had. I must have asked a thousand! But she didn't seem annoyed. When I asked her where she was from, she said simply, "Here. Italia." I don't believe her, though. She can't be more than twenty. If she was born and raised here, as she claims, wouldn't the accent still have strength?_

 _But it's not my business. I was ridiculously happy to speak with her. Maybe I am more lonely than I realized…_

 _Oh, yes… tomorrow may be our last day in Volterra. We've already spent too long as it is, but then again, I don't know what Aunt May is planning. To see_ all _of Italy? Hopefully she remembers my school starts in a couple weeks. It would be awful if I missed the first week. This isn't high school, anymore, Aunt May. But anyway… Heidi promised to show us some of Michelangelo's work. Maybe da Vinci as well. Either way, I'm excited. This is such a beautiful place. I feel such peace here—more than I've ever felt in my life, except with my mom and dad. Did you ever come here, Daddy? Did you come to Europe, you and she together? I never knew about their past lives, but I was too young to care very much. Now they're gone, and I'm still asking questions. "Do you know I'm here?" "Can you see me?"_

 _I'm in Volterra. Such a beautiful place. The days are slow and dreamy, weighed down by sunlight. The nights are even longer. The air is perfumed. Someone sings "Il Sole Mio" down the street._

 _Goodnight, Mom and Dad. Love you._


	5. Chapter 5

**_September 2_ _nd_** _ **,** _

_I am numb. My writing is scarcely legible, and I write like a person with a chronic illness. I look back to this morning, and it's a different world._

 _Dear God._

 _My thoughts freeze again._ "Focus, _Aster," my mom urges. "Take one tiny step at a time."_

" _I'm so frightened," I whisper to her. I don't even know how crazy I sound. "Mom…?Please. I'm so frightened."_

 _I hate this candle. It's dripping onto the page. Try as I might, I can't scrape it off; the wax is too hot. It gleams bright red, like blood, and suddenly I'm remembering again…_

 _Breathe. Tiny steps. Writing now…_

 _The beginning of the tour was much like yesterday, only I was more alive than ever. I had forgotten the exhilaration of the previous day, and I was also happy to see our guide. I caught a glimpse of Heidi, and she smiled at me. Our group gathered in front of the church, as before, and looked at her expectantly._

" _I hope you've enjoyed yourselves so far," she began. "Because tomorrow, our tour will take you to the city of Venice, where another guide will be waiting. He's a friend of mine, and knows Italy much better than I do." She smiled slyly at us. "I'm certain you'll forget Volterra soon in Venice's splendor, but I hope you'll cherish fond memories of our beautiful city."_

" _It's been delightful," my aunt piped up._

 _Heidi beamed at her. "Grazie. Since today is our last bit of time together, I would like to show you an exquisite location, and one of my personal favorites."_

 _As she described the architecture to us briefly, the German lady frowned. "But… that is not mentioned… on the brochure," she said slowly. Her English had improved._

" _Yes, Ma'am," Heidi said sweetly. "It is my own special surprise."_

" _Amazing," I heard my aunt breathe. Even my uncle was smiling. A separate location, free of charge, added onto what was already a pretty good deal. Nice._

 _A buzz of gratitude floated through the group, but Heidi shushed us pleasantly. "Shall we?" she invited. We walked along the street until we reached a bus stop, and she stepped on ahead of us with her customary grace. I squashed into the back between my cousins; uncomfortable, but absurdly happy. For the second time, I was glad I had come._

 _The bus screeched to a noisy stop, and we were piling out onto the street again. As Heidi's heels clicked ahead of us, my aunt smeared sunblock on Brandon and Susie._

" _Lay off, Mom," Brandon grumbled. "We'll be_ inside, _for gosh sakes."_

" _You never know," she replied, smacking the cream on Susie's chubby arms and legs._

" _Here we are!" Heidi called out, and we stopped for a moment to take it in. I must have gasped or something, because she turned her lovely smile on me again. We stood in a large, open square, and the sun beat down with more force than ever. Dizzy, I stared up at the tower above us. Six windows were built into the stone, although centuries of dust and grime had somewhat marred the corners. I remember scraping my leg on the fountain, then looking down into its coin-choked depths. It, too, showed signs of age._

 _I heard Heidi's voice, and suddenly we were out of the sun, grateful in the cool darkness of a wide hallway. It was empty, save for a cabinet or two, and a few iron candelabras dangled from the walls. I rested my hand against them, smiling._

" _I'll admit one thing," my uncle was saying. "This place suits me much better than the rest. At least we aren't frying like eggs on pavement."_

" _David…" my aunt scolded. "You_ knew _the weather would be hot."_

" _Well, I didn't know about extra tours, sans charge," he said cheerfully. "Awfully sensible, if you ask me."_

 _I was listening, but only partly. There was something about the cold dankness that appealed to me. We followed Heidi down a staircase, and the temperature continued to drop._

 _Susie shivered. "I'm cold," she wailed._

 _My aunt turned to her, but Heidi was already beside us. "Perhaps the little lady would like a coat?" she offered. A jacket appeared in her hands. My aunt thanked her profusely, and wrapped it around my cousin's fragile body. I tried to thank Heidi, too, but she was already at the front again, pointing to the torches lining the walls._

 _I looked behind us, startled. When had the other light—the natural light—disappeared? I felt uneasy, but perhaps she was showing us a crypt or something. The idea didn't appeal to me. I looked at my cousins, but they appeared tranquil. The whole group did._

 _After all, there was a lot to see. There weren't any paintings, as I'd hoped, but now and then we'd pass a sculpture, and it would take my breath away. Heidi would wave her hand carelessly, saying the artist had died long ago, but I would keep my eyes trained on it, fascinated, until we turned another corner and it faded from sight. Sometimes it was an angel. Sometimes it was a child; a boy blowing a curious horn, or a girl with stone flowers spilling from her dress. Once it was a beast, a monster of some kind. I saw the horns, the leering, malicious face, and sighed with relief when it, too, faded._

" _Let me draw your attention to the floor you're walking on," Heidi said. "The designs you see have been there for at least eight hundred years. No one knows who carved them."_

 _My cousins tripped over their feet, trying to follow the mass of curlicues and figures. I couldn't make anything of it. It was as if we walked on a maze. A maze that was leading us… where?_

 _I remember looking up suddenly, and seeing a white face staring at me. I drew back, startled, but it was only the statue of a man. His overly-muscular arms grappled a lion, which snarled as it tried to reach his throat. Again, the lack of inscriptions on the stone. The place was like a museum, yet everything was a mystery. I brushed off another wave of uneasiness._

 _I stopped, nearly crashing into my uncle. He scowled at me. We were standing before two gigantic pillars, the tops of which I couldn't even see (either that, or it was too dark). A set of impressive doors loomed behind Heidi, as dark as she was pale. The wood, too, was mysterious. Oak? Steel? Did they make doors out of steel?_

" _Could everyone please stay together?" Heidi called. I caught a phrase in Italian, probably muttered to herself. "I don't want to lose anyone… especially the kids."_

 _She flashed a smile at my family. "This is my favorite part of our little tour. We are going to enter an ancient counseling room, with much nicer floors than you've seen so far. It's marble, though, so try not to slip. The caretakers try to keep this place clean in particular, because it's so well-known here. Si, I understand. You're wondering why you haven't heard of it? But we Italians don't divulge all our secrets, do we?" She laughed, as if she were the only Italian present. "There are paintings here, as well as architecture, which I think you will all like very much." She folded her white hands, violet eyes shining. "Are we ready now? Perfect. Oh, yes. Please turn off all cellphones and electronics, as a courtesy to others' enjoyment."_

 _I waited amidst the shuffling of bags and purses. White screens flashed, and my aunt and uncle slipped their own phones snugly in their pockets. Brandon groaned as his Playboy was snatched from his fingers. "So boring," he grumbled._

" _Hush," Uncle David snapped._

 _Heidi grasped the bronze handles. "I hope you enjoy it," she said sweetly._

 _We crowded in behind her, and for a moment, I felt swallowed up in the grandeur, the vastness of it. I craned my neck, straining to see the cherubs high above, and sunlight streamed through the ceiling, blinding me in a powerful glare._

 _It was beautiful. That was my first thought. For many, it was their last._

* * *

 **This still gives me the chills, sometimes. Poor ignorant souls. If you haven't already, give Evanescence's song "Bleed (I Must Dreaming)" a listen. It was the inspiration for this story.**

 ** **Love, Petals****


	6. Chapter 6

**" _You heard me breathe_**

 ** _And I froze inside myself_**

 _ **And turned away."** _

**_September 2_ _nd_** _ **(continued…)** _

_An hour later…?_

 _I'm maddening you, I know. But I couldn't go on just then. Not after…_

 _Not after. What about before? But then, I didn't know. None of us knew—_ could've _known. No, evil is more subtle. It strikes you when you're least aware. Like Death, kind of. Is that why it frightens people so much? Is it the unexpectedness, the terror you don't feel 'til the last minute?_

 _But I'm going ahead of myself. Morbidly so, in my desperation. I don't want to… but I must._

 _We were in the room. "The counseling room," she'd called it. And it was beautiful. Beautiful, breathtaking… a heaven, or perhaps a cathedral. I wondered in stunned astonishment if artists had seen what I did—da Vinci, Michelangelo—all the great heroes of the Renaissance. I wondered if they, too, were blinded, and saw through the blindness to the perfection they could attain. The art… it had no words. I was not an artist, but I could have become one, in that instant._

 _I remember looking away, irritated, as a voice broke through my thoughts. It was not Heidi's. It was a man's. Only the pitch was off; wrong, somehow. It was too breathy, too deep, too fluid all at once. I felt like it spoke in another language, and yet the words were completely comprehensible to me._

" _Welcome!" the voice said jubilantly. "Welcome, my dear guests!"_

 _I couldn't see. I was at the back of the group, my family in front of me. I looked in the other direction, and ice crawled up my skin. A strange man, one as pale as Heidi, was closing the doors. He stared at me, and I saw his shoulders shaking. He was laughing._

" _Aunt May?" I whispered._

 _She was holding my uncle's arm, a strange look on her face. No one was looking around. No one was moving. They were all frozen, staring at something…_ what? _I yanked at my aunt's sleeve._

 _Then it was quiet. The voice dropped to a whisper. "Let the feast begin."_

 _And then I was shoved back, almost violently, into the pillar behind me. I tried to register the pain, but Susie's face was in mine, and her blue eyes were contorted with fear. She opened her mouth, and nothing came out. I grabbed her, clutching her to my pounding heart, and was finally given a clear view._

 _I wished I'd closed my eyes._

 _People were running everywhere. Trampling each other. A woman I'd recognized from our tour yesterday sped across the floor, flinging herself on the steps. The pale man I'd seen grabbed her, yanking her hair back. I screamed as he bit her throat. I started to see faces—faces like Heidi's and the man—and they were clothed in black. They were catching the tourists, biting them, kicking them, and their faces were a smeared mask of delight. Silver flashed in my vision, and I saw Heidi bending over, cradling a frozen body in her arms…_

 _I called out to her. I swear I did. But my voice stuck halfway. Susie sobbed into my shirt, and I made myself very small. They were slipping in their blood. They were crying for mercy. Only there was none. The men on the thrones didn't move, but waited until their prey was brought to them. Their clothes were immaculate, fresh, and yet the marble was colored red…_

 _A hand seized my arm, and I screamed. It silenced me, and I turned to see my uncle beside me. I had never seen him like this. He was livid._

" _Be quiet!" he hissed. "Be quiet, or you'll kill us all!"_

" _It doesn't matter!" I wanted to say, but I didn't. I saw him dragging Brandon behind the pillar, and we huddled together, a true family, for once._

" _Where's Aunt May?" I whispered. I had a voice, after all._

 _Uncle David's jaw was slack, and I noticed his hands shook. So she, too, had joined the bodies in that terrible heap. I would've heard her scream. Why hadn't I? But it was silent now, and we were cold and sweating behind the marble._

" _I declare, Jane, you'll best us all yet!" laughed a voice._

" _Hardly, my lord."_

 _My eyes opened wide. It was a child. A little girl. But I would believe anything now..._

" _You're too modest, my sweet." Again, that hateful voice. Like a destructive angel. I imagined strangling it, although I had no conception of the face. I felt like laughing, suddenly. Silly Aster._

" _Felix loses, I think."_

"What?" _someone growled._

" _It's only fair," continued the child. "Seeing as you've sprayed the entire room effectively."_

 _A snicker. "Detention."_

" _Shut up," Felix snapped._

" _Peace, children," sang the angel voice. "We cannot spend eternity in bickering, you know. And I, for one, do not intend to hav—"_

" _Wait," said someone else. This voice was thinner, harsher. "I hear a heartbeat."_

" _Probably your own," the angel laughed. "You drink too much, brother."_

 _The voice was insistent. "There is someone here."_

 _A silence followed, more deadly and terrifying than anything I'd already been through. Uncle David's hand was a vise on my arm. I bit my lip, breaking the skin. As if_ my _own heart wasn't loud enough already…_

 _I looked up, and it leaped, crashing into my ribs. A man stood there, and he was looking curiously at us. I suppose he was beautiful, but like everything else, his face and body were corrupt as hell to me. I could only see the white fangs curving in his mouth, and hear my own gasp. What the—_

 _His gaze settled on Susie, cringing in my lap. "Not_ a _heartbeat, Master," he said softly. "Rather,_ four."

" _Four?" they echoed. I could hear their excitement, and my stomach twisted._

" _Well, bring them out, Demetri!" said the angel's voice. "They won't bite." A titter of laughter rang in my ears._

 _Uncle David rose to his feet, throwing off the man's –Demetri's?—hand, and I followed quickly, dragging my cousins with me. The sweet smell stung my nostrils, and I held them tighter. We stumbled into the center of the room as before, only this time it was clear as day._

 _They were all pale. Pale and cruel. The dark-haired man sat on his throne, as if he hadn't moved. The other, the old one, seemed to carve gashes in the armrests as he watched us. And the third…_

" _Marvelous!" he shouted, and I recognized the ethereal voice. His hair was black, and as long as mine, flowing past his shoulders. His eyes were red, and that scared me more than anything._

" _Marvelous," he repeated again, fingering something under his vest. "The lone survivors. It's like one of those Hollywood movies." He regarded us for a while longer, then suddenly clapped his hands. "I know!" he exclaimed. "Let's play a little game, shall we?"_

" _Ohhh…" groaned the old one._

" _I am Aro, by the way," he continued, ignoring everyone. "Not that it matters, but I_ do _hate to be rude. Suppose you introduce yourselves, as well?"_

 _He gestured to my uncle, who seemed frozen in another time. His voice cracked when he spoke. "I am David Dawson. This is my son, Brandon, and my daughter, Susie."_

 _I prayed those red eyes wouldn't turn on me, but they did. "And this charming young woman is?"_

 _Rot in hell. "I'm Aster."_

 _Aro smiled. "You are not David's daughter?"_

" _His niece."_

" _Ah… How wonderful."_

 _I couldn't imagine why this was wonderful, but like everything else, he baffled me. Who was he? Why were we here?_

" _You mentioned a game," droned the old one._

" _Thank you, Caius," said Aro. He seemed lost in thought, his eyes traveling from one of us to the other. "I would like to make a proposition to you all," he said. "Suppose you give me your reasons to survive, and I and my little family will consider them." He winked at the rest. "Winner gets the obvious."_

" _Why should we believe you?" my uncle asked hoarsely. "You've already taken my wife."_

 _Aro feigned sadness. "I am sorry, my friend. The blonde one, wasn't she? Most unfortunate. But alas, she didn't survive." He pressed his long fingers together, creating an arc. "You, on the other hand, will have a chance. That I promise you. Now give me your reasons. The children may speak, too, if they wish."_

" _Please…" my uncle whispered, surprising me. I'd never heard him beg before, but now wasn't the time for pride. "I don't know who you are, and I don't know what you want. But I have nothing to offer. There is no reason for you to kill us. You have had your fun. You can't…" His voice broke, and tears started to my eyes. "You can't take a child. Please. We are the only ones with children."_

" _That's true," Aro said, nodding. "You were the only ones."_

" _So you will spare us?" my uncle pleaded._

 _Aro paused, suddenly absorbed in his own hands. Then, "Suppose I answer your questions first? Just so you know what you flee from,_ should _we be lenient." He smiled at us, and again I saw those fangs. Was I going insane? No, they were real. Real as the sun on my face, and the gore beneath my feet._

 _Aro seemed to enjoy our fear, as did the others. "We are vampires, my friend—immortals, as it were. I'm sure you've heard your share of legends. They seem to be exceptionally popular these days. We are the damned, the evil, the spawn of Satan. Call it what you like, but we will answer to it, nonetheless. I and my coven must drink blood to survive. It is a tragic fact, but there it is." Aro opened his hands, palm outward, as if begging our sympathy. "Can I make this clearer? Your reasons are excellent, but they are not enough. I must have more. Either that, or you will serve to sustain us. There is no other offer I can make."_

" _No other," echoed Caius._

 _My cousins were silent with fear. I looked at my uncle, and his head was bowed. For the first time, I felt pity swelling inside me. What could he do? What could_ any _of us do?_

 _I looked up, despairing, and the third vampire—the one near the thrones— was watching me intently. He had not spoken yet._

 _Aro followed my gaze and turned around. "Marcus?" he said softly._

 _The vampire closed his eyes, as if the effort hurt him. I watched Aro glide up the stairs, the four of us surrounded by guards, and take the vampire's white hand in his. A moment vanished, and he snapped his head up to look at me._

 _Within moments, he was before us again. I blinked. These guys moved_ way _too fast. Then I heard my name._

" _What?" I said instinctively. My voice sounded so strange._

 _But Aro wasn't listening. He was speaking to my uncle, and I struggled to follow his words. "I have another option," he said merrily. "Unexpected, of course, but all the better for you. I will let your family go free, and of their own will, if—"_

 _My uncle opened his mouth, gaping, but Aro raised his finger. "—_ if _you are generous, and allow us the pleasure of playing host to your lovely niece."_

 _I remember gasping, but not knowing it 'til the sound left my lips. Uncle David kept staring at Aro. His face wasn't horrified as mine was, but… torn? Relieved? I couldn't tell._

" _Uncle David…" I began softly. "Uncle?"_

 _He looked at me, and I felt a sharp pain stab my heart. It grew deeper when he turned to Aro, his jaw firm. "I accept."_

 _Aro's smile was dazzling. "Demetri, escort our guests out."_

 _And they were leaving. They were leaving me. They were leaving me with—with—_

 _God._

 _I remember being on the floor…on my knees… I might have cried. Screamed. Pulled my hair. I don't know. I dimly wondered where Heidi was._

" _Poor child," he was saying soothingly. It was Aro. He was holding me—stroking my hair?—and I was blind with pain. It hurt like hell, and I'd never even_ loved _him, my uncle. Why did I care? Why did I care? Why did I even, flippin'_ care…?!

 _I don't remember anything after that. They took me here, to this room, and left me to sleep. I woke up awhile ago, something digging in my side, and realized it was my pocket diary, stuffed in my pocket, of all places. How ironic._

 _And that's it. That's all, for now._

 _My wrist hurts from writing. My head aches. And my heart... my heart hurts the most._

 _Vampires. Of all the sick, loathsome ideas. And I'm their prisoner._

 _It feels very late. I'm staring at the candle, almost stupidly. A tear stains the page, and the wax begins to bleed._


	7. Chapter 7

**Part II: All in Good Time**

 ** ** _September 4_ _th_****

 _I know the date, because Heidi told me. Yes, Heidi. The sweet tour guide with the smiles and high-heels. She brings me my meals, shows me the bathroom, and gives me my one source of consolation now: conversation. I should hate her, I know. But considering the state I'm in now, she's the only friend I've got._

 _I've lost my watch. In other words, you'd better not wonder about the time, because it could be midnight for all I know. Of course, I'm not tired at all, so that's into likely. It's only a matter of time before I'm a complete, warped nutcase._

 _Vampires. I can't get used to the idea, and yet just being around her is proof enough. I've started a list in my mind. I'll put it down here, so I don't forget:_

 _Vampire characteristics:_

 _drink blood_

 _pale skin_

 _zero body temperature_

 _very fast_

 _red eyes_

 _fangs_

 _Oh, and I almost forgot…_

 _preference for stupid American tourists_

 _Hopefully, this makes things a_ little _clearer, in case you're a bare-faced skeptic. I know. You're laughing now, aren't you? Considering my appalling, emotional episode of last entry, I seem strangely resilient now. But it isn't true._

 _I'm scared. I'm scared to death, and it's not just because I've discovered one of history's most horrific legends._

 _I'm scared for_ me. _For what they mean to do with me. I ask my jailer questions repeatedly, but she only shrugs with that deceptively kind smile of hers. The smile that had us all fooled. Then she asks me about my own life, and I, too, play mum._

 _It's my best defense now. Silence._

 ** _September 5_ _th_**

 _I've seen him. He's been here, in this room._

 _Aro. Such a ridiculous, simple name. And yet, this person—this vampire—affects everyone around him, including me. It's a chain reaction, and I'm the bottom of the chain. I've never been so afraid of anyone, and yet I don't understand why. As an onlooker, he seems the kindest, most compassionate being in the world. His voice is like a breath, and he never raises it in emotion. He is very wise, and handsome, too, if I was also a vampire and had no heart. I wonder… is this what people look like in hell? Damnation in exchange for beauty?_

" _Hello, Aster." A voice to make your skin crawl._

 _He came in my room, after I'd dressed and eaten. As if nothing had happened; not yesterday, not the day before… never._

" _Hello, Aster," he said politely_

" _Get out," I answered, just as politely._

 _He sat down beside me, weighing the mattress a little. He didn't seem to mind when I scooted away._

" _Aster…" he looked me over slowly. "Such an interesting name. I have never heard it before."_

" _I've never heard 'Aro', either," I retorted._

 _He laughed. "No, I doubt you have. Still…" His voice was barely a breath. "Suppose it's a sign? Suppose you really were meant to join us?"_

" _If that were true, I would be a vampire now."_

 _He shook his head. "Some decisions take time, my love. Hopefully we won't have to take drastic measures to help you reach yours."_

 _I turned away. I couldn't look at him anymore._

" _Aster?" he said softly._

 _My stomach twisted as he lifted my chin, looking deeply into my eyes. His own were black, shining like obsidian. I could only hope I wasn't his next victim._

" _Let go of me," I whispered._

 _His eyes were curious. "Why, my dear?"_

" _I don't want you to touch me. Let go."_

 _He acquiesced, but only to trail his hand down my throat. I could feel it linger there, cupping my pulse. His eyes never left mine. I started to grow dizzy. Was it all an effect of fatigue, I wondered, or did vampires have hypnotic powers, as well?_

" _Aster," he repeated. His voice was even softer._

" _Let… go." My voice cracked._

 _He obeyed, finally, laughing again. Then he asked another question. "How old are you?"_

 _I remember staring at him. If he was going to kill me, then why would it matter? "Eighteen," I answered._

" _Perfect!" he crooned. "A legal adult, by today's standards. And are you in college now, Aster?"_

" _That was my plan, yes, before you took me hostage."_

 _Aro laughed again, loudly this time. It hurt my ears. "Ah, but she is an impertinent one!" he said, and his teeth flashed in the light. Then he reached for me, and I couldn't pull away. "I like you, Aster," he said merrily. "I like you very much." His hand stroked mine, and I watched his eyelids fall heavily. His thick lashes brushed his cheek, and all was still._

 _I remember how confused I was. I broke the silence eventually, demanding an explanation. He gave it to me. It sounded like something from "Eragon: The Inheritance"_ _series. The dragon connected to the human. The vampire reading the human's mind through—_

" _A single touch," Aro told me calmly. "That is all that's required. It's amazingly useful, once you think about it." He giggled. "Not for_ you, _of course, my dear. Unless you enjoy hearing your thoughts aloud…?"_

 _I shook my head, pale with disbelief. Oh, this was just perfect. The supernatural undead having supernatural powers. That I can deal with. But_ this?! _What legend or novel has prepared me for_ this? _This isn't supernatural, I thought frantically. This is… unnatural._ _Unreal._

 _Then I realize he can hear every word, and he giggles again._

" _So what now?" I snapped. This time, I manage to tear my hand away. "You have my thoughts. You have me. What do you want?"_

" _Patience, sweetling," he cooed. "Let us cross that path when we come to it. In the meantime, I believe Heidi has your dinner ready for you."_

" _I'm not hungry."_

 _I felt his eyes on me, and looked up. I'll never forget the look on his face. He looked like a starving man, sunken with malnourishment, who has suddenly caught sight of a tempting dish of food._

" _Why do you look at me like that?" I whispered._

 _His face was wiped clean, as if by magic. "It matters not, my dear." He rose from the bed. "Enjoy your meal. I shall try to visit again, if I may."_

" _You may not," I muttered, biting into a muffin. It was pretty good. I remember turning around, another sassy remark rising to my lips, when I felt his fingers clamp firmly about my neck, and his face hovered dangerously close before mine._

" _Do be careful, my sweet," he breathed. "I want to ensure your safety here."_

 _I felt the blood draining from my face. The bread dropped, forgotten, from my fingers. Aro smiled, almost tenderly, and began stroking my face with his free hand. Just when I felt I would faint from the nausea—and pain—he released me, letting me fall forward with a gasp._

 _I didn't eat anymore. I haven't eaten anything since. I'm writing, staring sullenly at the stale food, and my stomach growls on, ignored. I won't touch another morsel. I won't accept anything they give me. They are liars. Monsters. They are not going to let me live. Why not help them while I can?_

 _Silence sucks._

 ** _September 6_ _th_**

 _Still haven't eaten. It isn't bad, this starvation. Then again, I could be wrong._

 **September 7th**

 _Ok, so I'm wrong._


	8. Chapter 8

"She's starving herself!"

The two brothers looked up from their conversation. "I told you," murmured one.

"Who?" demanded the other.

"The girl!" Aro gazed at the ceiling, as if he couldn't fathom anything more stupid. "Why is she doing this? What have we done? We've only kept her a few days, at most."

"Have you told her why?" This brother was quieter, darker.

"You don't spring things on humans like that, Marcus. They must be treated with care."

Caius rolled his eyes. "Oh, of all the absurd—"

"Felix!" Aro shouted, ignoring him.

A black shadow emerged from the entrance. "Master?"

"How is our prisoner?"

"Well… she's fainted, my lord."

Aro sighed.

"Fainted?" Caius snorted. "For heaven sakes, Aro, couldn't you at _least_ get a stronger one? She won't be of any use to me now."

Aro smiled coldly. "Don't be presumptuous, brother. She isn't in your hands _yet."_ He turned back to Felix. "I don't care if you have to force a tube down her throat. See to it she gets proper nutrition. Oh, and Felix?"

"Yes, master?"

"Bring Heidi with you. I've noticed they seem to get along." He chuckled to himself. "Good. Very good. She may form an attachment with one of us yet."

"Just what is it about this girl?" Caius asked, after the doors closed.

Aro smiled. "Marcus nigh saved us from calamity the other day. I would have destroyed the Dawson family if not for him. Tell him what you saw, brother."

Marcus sighed. "You make much of nothing, Aro. It was only a glimpse."

"A _glimpse,_ brother? More like a _revelation._ The girl's intelligence was immediately clear, as was her detachment from her relatives. It was irresistible." Aro laughed with glee. "Humans are so often attached to others. How could I give this one up?"

"That's it?" Caius demanded. "That's all he saw?"

Aro merely laughed again, irritating his brother further. A thousand years hadn't been enough for Caius to forget his jealousy. He had no talent. No gift. Nothing except…

"Well?" he asked then, adjusting his robe. "When can I have her?"

"Patience, patience. We needn't do everything at once."

Marcus sat down slowly. "Have you even _asked_ the girl?"

"No, but I will." Aro settled into his throne, winking at Caius. "Tonight, if possible."

* * *

 _ **Later…** _

_Well, they came. I knew they would. My mouth is cut at the corners, torn where Heidi forced it down into me. They didn't even wait to see how willing I was; how I nearly died at the smell of food. That brute of a vampire—Felix is his name—held my arms. They're bruised and sore. My lungs are worn out from shouting. There's no point if anyone listens, and no one did, of course. I'm only human, and I'm a nuisance. That's what Aro said, at least. "Why are you being so difficult?" he sighed. I heard he had Heidi beaten, or something like that, for not feeding me. For not noticing the pallor of my cheeks, or the globs of food shoved down the grate in the corner. The rats will have a good meal, at least._

 _My stomach is full, but my mind is strangely empty. I feel weightless, as if no longer made of flesh and blood, but some weird, cloudy substance that changes per day. And like any substance, they mold and shape me as they will, giving me what I don't want, and telling me what I don't care to hear._

" _Cloudy substance." "Not flesh and blood." How profound. Am I going crazy, or am I just hearing your own stark confusion?_


	9. Chapter 9

**Hello, lovelies...**

 **For those of you who have stuck with me for awhile, you are well aware of my talents at procrastination. Apparently, a pandemic is the only thing to make me take a moment and upload! (What's even sadder is this story has been posted before, so I don't need to do much writing lol.) I hope you enjoy. We delve back again into the tragic story of Aster Dawson. I will be posting the rest of the story throughout this week while I'm in quarantine.**

 ***blows kisses***

* * *

 ** _September 8_ _th_ _,_**

 _I'm so tired. I'm usually a well-organized person, but my whole sleeping schedule is thrown off. What time is it? What is the weather outside? The dates themselves aren't a problem, but that's only temporary, I'm sure._

 _At any rate, remembering won't erase the circles from my eyes. My room has a tiny mirror near the door. It hangs precariously on a nail, and shows just enough of my face to disgust me. I can see the dark bruises on my neck, left by cruel fingers, and my arms are in a similar condition. Thank heavens my skin is slightly darker, or they would stand out even more._

 _Ugh. I'm being evasive again. I'm avoiding what happened last night. "What now?" you ask wearily (and yet, who is reading?). Yes, I know. You'd think I'd had enough for one day. But vampires never sleep, and neither shall I if they want me. And_ he _wanted me. Literally._

 _It must have been pretty late. My stomach was cramping, naturally, after such ill treatment, and I was about ready to go to bed. Then the knock. "Come in," I said dully._

 _Aro opened the door, his white fingers stark against the wood. "Good evening, Aster," he breathed. His voice was strangely appealing, even for a vampire._

 _I held out my plate towards him. "See? I've been a good girl, haven't I?"_

 _He laughed. "That you have."_

" _Good." I patted the cold pillows. "Now let me go to sleep."_

" _Not yet, my dear," he said softly. He caught my hand, drawing me back to the center of the room. I sank into a chair, fighting the hot words that bubbled to my lips._

" _Look at me, Aster."_

 _I stared up at him. I swore I would never look at the color red again._

" _My brothers have presented me with a dilemma," he began, pacing a little. "You do remember them, don't you? They sat beside me on the stone dais."_

 _How could I forget?_

" _They are concerned, as am I, that you don't fully understand your purpose here, or why we chose you out of the rest of your family._ Do _you understand, Aster?"_

 _I shook my head._

" _Of course not. Nor do I blame you." He knelt suddenly, his head level with mine. I flinched as his fingers touched my arm. He smiled at my reaction. "Don't fear me," he said. "I will not hurt you."_

" _It isn't that," I said quickly._

 _His smile grew wider. "Ah, you think I wanted to hear your thoughts? Well, you were right, my dear. You might as well grow used to it. I will touch you when and how I please, whenever it suits me." He rose again, walking around my chair._

" _What is it you want?" I demanded. "You say you can read my thoughts, well then why ask at all?"_

 _He chuckled. "Merely, my dear, because I haven't asked yet. If you don't_ know _what I wish, then how can I know your answer?" He kicked another chair into place before me, settling himself in it. His face was strangely excited as he watched me. "Shall I come straight to the point," he began, "or do you have anything you want to ask me?"_

" _What?"_

 _He gestured around him. "You're a human, in a strange place. Your first few days have been difficult. Do you have any questions?"_

 _I rolled my eyes. "Can we just get on with it? I don't see my time here being long, anyway, so what's the point?"_

 _Aro laughed. It was a frightening sound. "I cannot fool you," he said merrily. "But that is a good thing." He leaned forward. "We—meaning all the vampires you've seen here—are not as bloodthirsty as you seem to think. We have other purposes, as well."_

" _That's good to hear."_

 _He smiled. "We keep the laws. The vampire's laws. No human can be aware of our existence unless we desire it, and we do not allow unmitigated killing. We maintain order. We are called the Volturi."_

 _I didn't want to talk to him, but I did. "The Volturi? Isn't that like 'Volterra'?"_

 _He shrugged, unconcerned. "It is a similar Latin or Italian root. It does not matter. But you must understand that this is not an ordinary coven of vampires."_

" _Coven?"_

 _He smiled at me indulgently. "That is the term we use for a group, or pair, of immortals. The Volturi are unique in that they have special talents. Mine, for example." He gestured to himself. "I read thoughts. Jane and Alec, the young twins you saw, can create illusions. Felix has the power of strength, Heidi her beauty. Everyone here has a purpose, and we use them accordingly."_

" _But…" I was confused, trying to keep up with all this. "What does this have to do with me?"_

 _That smile again. "But it has everything to do with you! You have gifts, Aster. Wonderful gifts. The Volturi would like to use them, to our benefit."_

 _I gaped at him. "Gifts? You're crazy."_

" _Oh, no, my dear girl. Not at all. Do you remember my brother, Marcus?"_

" _The tall one?"_

" _Yes, love. He first drew my attention to you, which is why I wanted you to stay."_

" _But how…?"_

" _Marcus can see relationships; how people interact with one another. It was obvious from the start you had no real affection for your so-called 'family.' You lost your parents. You have no siblings. Nothing to hold you down." His teeth flashed. "You were the perfect choice for us."_

 _I leaned back in my chair, stunned. He was right, of course. I had nothing. I meant nothing. No one would miss me, were I to die…_

" _But you will not die, Aster," he said sweetly. I gasped, wrenching myself away from him, out of the chair. The room was too small. I pressed my hands to the wall, trying to breathe._

" _Oh, Aster," he sighed. I could feel him behind me. His hands touched my shoulders._

" _What do you want?" I moaned. "Just tell me what you want from me."_

 _His lips were hot against my ear. "Join us, Aster," he whispered. "You are an intelligent girl, and you have incredible potential. Join us, and you_ will _have a purpose."_

 _I turned around, then immediately wished I hadn't. His face was inches from mine; hypnotic, persuasive… "What?" I croaked. "You mean, as a vampire?"_

" _Of course."_

 _I shook my head. "No… never. Never."_

 _Aro pulled away, clucking his tongue. It was clear he'd expected this. "Ah, well," he said lightly. "There is no great hurry. You will have time to consider."_

 _He pushed the chairs away from him, walking towards the door._

" _There's nothing to consider!" I snapped. "Do you hear me? I_ won't _join you!"_

 _He turned around, blowing me a kiss. "Good-night, Aster," he said softly. The door closed behind him, and I slumped down against the wall._

 ** _New items for the list:_**

 _\- live in covens_

 _\- are ruled by laws_

 _\- are going to kill me, no matter what_


	10. Chapter 10

**_September 9_ _th_ _,_**

" _Be positive." Yes, that is what my parents would have said. True, I was an invariably positive child, despite the sarcasm. It shows through, here in my diary. It keeps me sane, especially with everything that's been going on lately. Of course, thanks to Renata, that hasn't been_ too _bad._

 _Who is Renata? She is Aro's guard. A ludicrous idea, but perhaps these vampires have weaknesses I don't know about. I smirked when she told me. How lovely, I thought, to be a powerful vampire, flanked and attended by beautiful women. She is an exquisite, sprite-like little thing, with large, almond-shaped eyes and short black hair. She only comes up to my chin, but her voice is that of an experienced adult. She shocked me a little this morning, poking her tiny face around the door._

" _Good morning," she said. Her accent was slightly Italian, like Aro's. "You are awake?"_

" _Yes," I grunted. I was brushing out my hair, forcing the knots into place._

" _Let me help you," she said. She took the brush from me, and quickly fixed it with her nimble fingers. A fragment of dust was brushed off of my sleeve, and she backed away from me again._

" _Thanks."_

" _You are welcome," she smiled._

 _I looked at her closely. "Who are you? I don't think I've ever—"_

" _You haven't," she finished. "I rarely join in the feeding. I and several others have our meal in different rooms." She spoke pleasantly, with careful English, as if we were discussing the weather. "My name is Renata."_

" _That's pretty," I said. So much for apathy._

 _Her little teeth glinted again._ "Grazie. _You are Aster, yes? Aro has told me about you. I am his guard—his 'right-hand,' if you will. If you ever want anything important or have any message for him, you have only to ask me."_

 _I nodded. "He sent you here?"_

" _Yes. I am to see if you're comfortable." She nodded at my breakfast tray. "The food is to your liking?"_

" _It's excellent."_

" _Do you require anything?"_

 _Freedom, perhaps? "Nope."_

" _Very good." Her child-like face lit up. "Aro will be pleased. He is indeed anxious to satisfy his guests." Ignoring my probing glance, she walked to the small closet and sorted through the contents. "This clothing should suffice. Now, if you'll follow me, I will show you some other things."_

 _I followed her, stifling a laugh. It was so odd, being directed about by such a little girl, vampire or not. She was scarcely taller than Jane._

" _I was born around the 1240's," she said suddenly. She looked up at me. "What about you?"_

 _Did I say 'little?' "Um… 1990."_

" _You are 18, then?"_

" _Yes."_

 _She smiled. "Technically, I win by two years. I was changed when I was twenty."_

"Twenty?" _I stared at her._

 _She reached up, patting my shoulder. "I'm not offended, dear. I know I'm short for my age. But remember, you are tall for a woman, even in this century. Height was much prized in my time."_

 _I swallowed my amazement. "I see. So… you're Italian, right?"_

" _Yes." She chattered on, politely ignoring my questions about her master. I admired her, although grudgingly, for protecting his secrets, of which she must know a lot._

" _This is the bathroom." She opened a small door only one corridor away from my room. I peered at the hole cut into the wood and grimaced. It looked like something the Romans used. The opening was uncovered and went down a considerable distance._

 _Renata read my face. "It may seem crude," she apologized. "But it is all we have. We do not have visitors as often as you think."_

" _I never thought that," I murmured. "No one tells me anything."_

 _Her dark eyes met mine, but they were silent. "We shall go back now," she said softly._

 _I sighed. This place felt more bizarre by the hour. When we reached my chamber again, she halted, looking up at me again. "Do not go out alone," she whispered. "Many immortals wander these halls, and my master cannot always keep track of who visits here. You are safe in this room."_ _She touched my hand timidly, her skin ice-cold. "It was nice to meet you, Aster."_

" _Wait," I called, as she turned away. "I'm sorry, but I still don't understand. I'm just to sit here, doing nothing, until Aro feels like visiting me?"_

 _She frowned. "I don't know. You must be patient."_

" _Yes, but for how_ long?"

 _She smiled, sadness mixed with compassion. "You refused his offer, didn't you?"_

 _I glared at her, but she didn't see it. She was already gone, the ghost of her shadow barely visible._

 ** _September 11_ _th_**

 _I shouldn't have gotten upset with Renata. I think she truly wants to help. She came back again today, offering to "show me around." I doubted there was much to see, but I agreed anyway. My boredom was growing intolerable. We walked around the citadel (or whatever it is) for at least an hour. It was far more interesting than I'd believed. I was able to take myself out of my misery a bit, examining the delightful art the Volturi had to offer. Some of the works actually had names, though I recognized but few. I remember smiling to myself. They had an appreciation for_ this, _at least._

 _The only unpleasant part of the tour was when Renata led me down a long, dimly-lit hallway. I recognized the strange, curling designs, and my stomach heaved. Renata watched me sympathetically as I retched, seizing the arm of a nearby statue for support. It was only when the dizziness cleared I realized I'd soiled the stone feet of the statue, which had the inscription "Lucillus Brutus," written across it._

 _I looked at Renata, mortified. "I'm so sorry."_

" _That's all right," she said gently. "It could happen to anyone."_

" _Yeah right," I groaned. I looked again at the statue, wondering if it would come to life and condemn me, seeing as I'd barfed my lunch all over its sandals…_

" _The Romans were a disgusting lot, I've heard," she remarked lightly. "Don't fret about it."_

 _I let out a chuckle, and so did she. It was all so silly. There I was, already laden down with more troubles than I could handle, and I was worrying about a stupid statue…_

 ** _Later…_**

 _I'm still laughing over that incident. Heidi, who brought me my dinner just now, gave me an odd look. "You feeling alright?" she asked. As if I am not permitted to laugh. As if I am a fool to feel giddy in such a dark situation. This makes me laugh even more._

 _Oh, God, what have I gotten myself into? It's my uncle's fault, I know, but somehow I feel that maybe—if I'd done better in life, or had a stronger disposition—maybe this wouldn't have happened. I could've insisted on_ not _coming to Italy. I could've demanded succor from my aunt. Then again, she always listened to my uncle… inevitably. And he had no affection for me. I'm sure of that now. He left with my two cousins, leaving behind a deceased wife and a niece who would have given him love if he'd only looked for it…_

 _I pound the wall with my fist. "What the hell_ , _Uncle David?!" I want to scream. "Was it so_ hard? _Could we not have died_ together? _Do I mean so_ little _to you? Do I mean so little to the entire_ world?!" _These questions never end._

 _I'm not laughing now._


	11. Chapter 11

**_September 16_ _th_ _,_**

 _No, I'm_ not _lazy at keeping entries. It's just that there's nothing to say. They feed me twice a day; once in the morning, and once in the evening. To them, it seems sufficient. To me… well, it's adequate. It's not like I was ever a pig for food, anyway (keeping the "stick legs" picture in mind?) And the food isn't bad, either. Sometimes, in my boredom, I amuse myself by trying to guess where each part of my meal came from. Grapes? Definitely Italian. Garlic bread? Well, it certainly didn't come from America, where everything_ really _good is just copied from another country…_

 _Wine? (And yes, I drink wine now and then. My mother had a particular affinity for it on holidays.) Ah, now_ this _has to be French! The flavor is exquisite. Although I do wish they'd give me white instead of dark red. It looks too much like… well, you know. Maybe I can ask Heidi about it or Renata. They're the only ones least likely to laugh at my human "weaknesses."_

 _You're bored already, aren't you? So am I. But I wasn't joking when I said there isn't anything to say. Twice a day (same as meals), Heidi escorts me to the restroom, waiting outside the door. If I want something washed, I tell her, and she brings it back to me hours later, cleaned and nicely-pressed. If I'm really lucky, Renata takes me on a "tour" or stays in my room to talk to me._

 _Oh, yes. Someone guards my door when I sleep at night. No one told me this, but I'm not stupid. It's amusing to think of a human attempting to escape this hell-hole, but vampires will be vampires! Notice how easily I say that word? Here, I'll say it again. Vampires. Vampires vampires vampires vampires vampires. Code for "I live in hell, so I must make sure everyone else does, too."_

 _I shouldn't be so censorious. They_ have _helped me, in a way. They've shown me how to truly hate, for the first time in my life._

 ** _September 19_ _th_ _,_**

 _My college year started today. Freshman, first-semester term. I was enrolled in math, English, world history, Psychology I, physics, and a beginner's course in art. I was to have three other roommates, one being a girl I knew from high school; a kind, strong person, who had a similar appreciation of art._

 _I smile a little. I'm not in college. I'm not even in America. I am still a senior graduate, and the money I saved is still there, stacked up in the bank. I'm not enrolled in any classes, except those of self-survival, optimism, and the constant struggle to stay sane. I have no companions, except the undead who waft in occasionally to visit me. I am in a dark, bizarre fairytale, and I will most likely not write the ending myself. Will you do it for me, reader? Will you be there?_

 ** _September 20_ _th_ _,_**

 _Renata came to see me… finally. I nearly cried, I was so happy to see her. I think she liked it, for she smiled when I hugged her. Vampires are not comfortable to touch—their skin is hard, and their teeth are more than a little unnerving—but I didn't care. I had to bend slightly, smelling her natural perfume as I held her._

" _Are you alright, Aster?" she asked. I remember her looking at me anxiously._

" _I'm fine," I laughed. "I'm just fine."_

" _You don't look it. Your face is—"_

" _Don't," I interrupted. "Please, Renata."_

 _She looked at the door. "Where's the mirror? I could have sworn—"_

" _I broke it." She looked at me quizzically, and I smiled. "I broke it on purpose. I don't want a replacement. I don't want to know what I look like."_

 _Renata turned away. She seemed disturbed, which was unusual. "True," I thought I heard her mutter. "It will only get worse."_

" _Are you going somewhere?" I forced myself to say._

 _Her childish face lit up. "Yes, as a matter of fact. It's a surprise."_

" _Awesome!"_

 _We held hands, giggling, and she pulled me out the door. I felt so easy, so natural; as if any cares or worries had slipped from my shoulders. We were like children, promised something new and exciting for Christmas. It was ridiculous, but who cared?_

" _Here," she said quickly. She yanked me lower, so as not to bang my head, and I saw we were in front of a tunnel. It was wide, but dimly-lit, and I cringed at going inside it._

" _Well, go on!" she urged me._

" _Is this really necessary?"_

" _We can go back, if you wish."_

" _No thanks." I could hardly stand the sight of my room now. Carefully, with both hands reaching out, I pulled myself into the tunnel. It was surprisingly cool, and not wet or slimy, as I had supposed. I realized the light didn't come from the torch Renata was holding, but from a small opening far ahead. I turned around, staring at her. "Should I climb?"_

" _Yes, until you reach the top." She had a sly grin on her face._

 _I shuffled up the opening, glad I didn't inherit my mother's fear of tight spaces. "You can never have too many blankets on the bed," my father would laugh. "Or your mom will go nuts." The tunnel seemed to shrink, and I paused, taking a deep breath. Speaking of claustrophobia._

" _Keep going!" Renata called cheerfully._

 _Surprisingly, there seemed to be a great deal of air blowing in my face. But how could it come from the opening? Unless… the light was natural…?_

 _I suddenly couldn't crawl fast enough. I skittered up the tunnel, feeling like some weird beetle, gulping in huge breaths of air. After about five minutes, the opening blazed into my face, blinding me. I squinted, reaching outward. My hands clenched around two iron sides, and I pulled myself up slowly. I was standing on a roof._

 _Of course, "standing" was an overstatement. The sun still blinded me, and the ground was incredibly unstable. Ancient tiles cracked under my feet, skittering off the edge to the streets below. But by God, I was_ outside. _For now, I was free._

 _A tear stained my face, quickly scorched. For nearly three weeks, I had been shut up like a prisoner. I probably looked like hell. But the air… oh, God, the air! I had come to Italy hating the stench, hating the heat, and now I couldn't fathom anything sweeter. Birds clustered several feet away, perching on what looked like gargoyles. Their grimacing faces were a striking contrast to my mood. I thought of moving towards them, to get a closer look, but the roof was so old. Not to mention sloped in all directions. One false step could send me to my death._

 _I stood there, who knows how long, just… well, just breathing, I guess. Feeling the sun on my face. It was refreshing to hear the babble of voices far below, although only the sparrows knew I was up there. After at least an hour, I took one last look around me, then squeezed back into the hole. I thought at first I would just slide to the bottom, but the sides weren't as slippery as all that. I edged my way back down, using my feet as well as my hands, and dropped to the floor lightly. It took me a moment to find Renata. Then I saw her. She was standing against the wall, her black cloak one with the darkness, and she still clenched the torch in her hand._

 _She looked up as I approached. Her eyes were wide, like a frightened child._

" _Renata?" I asked, puzzled._

 _She came toward me, holding up the torch. She scanned my face, her eyes narrowing, then took a soft breath as she stepped away. "You came back," she whispered._

" _Yes. What's wrong?"_

" _Why?" she demanded suddenly. "Why did you come back?"_

 _My smile disappeared. "Where else was there to go?"_

" _Oh, Aster." Her tone was miserable. "Don't you see? Don't you understand?"_

" _Don't I understand_ what?"

" _The tunnel!" She grabbed my shoulder, looking up at me. "Your escape! Why didn't you do it?"_

 _My heart skipped a beat. "Escape?" I repeated._

" _Why do you think I showed you? For amusement? I wasn't expecting you back, although I waited, anyway."_

 _Shock made me angry. "How could I possibly get away?" I snapped. "The roof... the tiles were too old. I would have broken my neck just to get dow—"_

" _Couldn't you have called out?" she demanded. "Was there no one in the streets? You may not know Italian, but a cry for help is not hard to discern." She looked at my face, white and silent, and hung her head. "I'm sorry," she said, sighing. "I thought—I truly thought I was doing you a service. You seemed so unhappy here."_

 _I couldn't even speak, for a moment._ " _What about your master, Renata?" I whispered. "Wouldn't he punish you? Kill you, even?"_

" _I love my master," she said simply. "There is nothing I wouldn't do for him. He values me just as much. He would punish me, yes. But nothing more." She frowned bitterly. "You would not be a_ great _loss to him, I'm sure. There are always others."_

" _Do you want me to try again?"_

 _She looked at me. She was a woman again, not a child. "No. It is too late."_

 _Scarcely had she said this than footsteps echoed down the hallway. I flinched away from the opening instinctively, and Renata took my hand._

" _Hello, ladies," boomed Felix's voice. "Fancy seeing you here!"_

 _He peered around the corner, grinning like a Halloween mask. His shoulders were monstrous in the shadows. "Get lost?" he asked, looking at me._

 _Renata stepped in front of me. "What do you want?" she demanded._

 _He laughed. "Aro's favorite," he whispered mockingly. "Does that make_ you _my master as well?"_

" _Shut your mouth and answer my question. Does Aro want her?"_

 _I'd never heard her tone so venomous. Felix started a little but recovered quickly. "I wouldn't know, really, but Heidi is distressed to find her charge missing." He winked at me. "And especially_ here, _of all places."_

" _What I do is none of your business," Renata hissed. "Now get out of our way."_

 _The huge vampire acquiesced, but not without giving me a hard pinch on my arm. I bit my lip, eager that Renata shouldn't see. Although she seemed to float down the hallway, I had to half-run to keep up. We found Heidi waiting for us._

" _Renata!" she gasped in relief. Then her anger rose up. "What do you mean by taking her?"_

" _She's back now, Heidi. That is all you should be concerned about."_

 _Heidi took my arm, glowering back at Renata. "Alright, then. But remember that not all of us are in Aro's good graces. Some of us can't afford_ _to make mistakes."_

 _Renata smiled a little, almost absently. "Of course." Then she was gone, without paying any further attention to me. Felix followed suit, thankfully, not giving me another glance._

 _I pulled away from Heidi the minute we entered the room. "Lay off, will you?" I snapped. "I've been jostled about enough for one evening."_

" _It's still late afternoon," she replied testily. "And what do you mean by 'jostled about?'"_

 _I slumped down on my bed. "Forget it."_

 _Heidi slammed the door behind her, muttering angrily under her breath. My stomach growled, but there would be no dinner for at least an hour. An hour to think, write in my diary, and curse myself._


	12. Chapter 12

Renata entered the room, placing her torch carefully in the iron bearer. It made only a soft clicking sound, but it was loud in the stillness. The figure in the chair did not move. He waited for her.

She brushed across the floor, keeping her face steady. When she reached the steps, she lifted her cloak, so as not to trip. It seemed an eternity before she stopped, standing beside his shoulder.

"Renata…" His voice was a breath. She moved around in front to face him.

"Master."

Aro sighed, drumming his fingers on the chair. "I have not heard good news of you," he began softly.

"Master, let me explain—"

"That will not be necessary. The girl is here, and your plan failed. Therefore, no harm done." He smiled then, and her own face lifted. "Come here, dearest one."

She came willingly, kneeling at his feet. He combed his fingers through her hair, thin and black as his own. She closed her eyes, knowing he had forgiven her.

"Yes, Renata," he cooed in Italian. "I do forgive you."

" _Grazie,_ my lord."

"But you must promise from now on to leave such matters to me," he continued. His eyes shone down at her. "I do not want to lose you, little one."

Seeing his good humor, she took a risk. "But, my lord, surely you understand my motive. She—Aster—is out of sorts. She is not happy. I only wanted to ease her burden."

"It is a burden she brings on herself."

His guard sighed. "Are her talents so worth keeping, then?"

"Of course, although we shall not know the full potential until she joins." Aro's teeth glinted. "Which is precisely why I'm so insistent."

"Yes, but to what extent, my lord?"

"That does not concern you."

She stared at him. "Not Caius, I hope?"

Aro didn't answer. Renata rose, clasping his cold hand. "Please don't harm her," she whispered. "It's not worth it."

Aro stroked her cheek, loving as a father. "On the contrary, love," he replied. "It is every bit a worthy undertaking."


	13. Chapter 13

" _ **I fear you, but spoken fears**_

 _ **Can come true."**_

 _ **September 23**_ _ **rd**_ _ **,**_

 _The strangest thing happened this evening. I got quite a surprise, but it had nothing to do with Aro, Heidi, or the rest. Rather, I talked with his_ brother. _Not the scowling one. Marcus. The tall vampire. The one with the dark, brooding eyes…_

 _Renata let me wander about this afternoon, which surprised me, considering our latest escapade. I wonder if Aro punished her. I could tell nothing by her face. She was not talkative, and after showing me a few paintings, she left. I wandered about by myself, trying to show some interest. I was hungry. And tired. Like I said earlier—I dined early morning and night. A month ago, my stomach would have complained at this eating pattern, but I was used to it by now. Harder to ignore was the approaching cold of autumn. Did it snow in Italy, I wondered?_

 _I looked up. A gargoyle stared me in the face, similar to the ones I'd seen outside._

" _Well?" I demanded. "What are_ you _laughing at? At least you can breathe up there." Feeling suffocated, I walked into another hallway, this one shedding some light from the ceiling. The stuffiness wasn't much better, but it sufficed. I sat down on a stone bench, propped up by sorrowful angels. I felt cold._

" _Looks like a tomb," I mumbled aloud._

" _You are not far off," said a quiet voice behind me._

 _I spun around, expecting to see Aro, but someone else stepped from the shadows. I tried to remember his name, but failed. He glided past me, peering curiously at a painting behind me. "The Renaissance," he murmured, then looked at me. "I despised that era."_

 _I tried to hold his gaze. "Why? It was a period of great achievement."_

" _Grief can change that." He changed the subject suddenly, without explanation. "Aster, do you want to become one of us?"_

 _I moved away, startled. "What?"_

" _Do you?"_

 _My eyes narrowed. "Did Aro send_ you, _too?"_

" _It matters not. You do not know my purpose for asking you, Aster."_

 _It was odd, hearing my name, yet strangely comforting. He didn't draw it out, with flowery accents, as Aro did. Rather, he said it firmly, as if he was a friend._

" _I'm sorry," I said slowly. "I don't remember your name."_

 _He winked imperceptibly. "Marcus."_

 _I couldn't help smiling back. If he wasn't so gloomy, he could be a real charmer. "Well, Marcus. I'll answer your question. No, I don't_ _plan on joining you."_

 _His forehead creased. "Ah, I am sorry to hear that."_

" _Why? I'm only a human. Easily dealt with. Who cares?"_

" _If only it were that simple." He offered his arm, surprising me. I took it anyway, though, and he led me away from the artwork. "I heard you very nearly got away from us," he said, after a long pause._

 _I didn't answer._

" _Although my brothers would disagree, I wish with all my heart you had taken that chance."_

 _I looked up at him, and we stopped. "What is this?" I asked. "What aren't you telling me?"_

 _Marcus sighed. He seemed frustrated. "How can I put it to you? Your life is in danger, Aster, but only as long as you refuse him. Aro can be patient, but not_ that _patient. How much longer do you think he'll wait?"_

 _I was getting frustrated, too. "I'm not joining you, ok?" I said. "I don't want to be a vampire."_

" _And yet you're willing to die?" he whispered._

 _I met his eyes squarely. "Yes."_

" _You are brave, Aster," he said softly. "But even bravery has its limits. I cannot protect you."_

" _I didn't ask you to, Marcus."_

 _He sighed, and I looked closer at him. His physical appearance was baffling; his personality eluded me completely. There was little doubt, though, that he had suffered. Any fool could see that. The shadows carved deeply into his sunken cheeks, and his eyes were like two caverns, each with a red glimmer of light. His hair was rich, but it hung limply about his shoulders. His robes could have covered a skeleton, but his smile would touch an angel._

" _You are different," he said suddenly. "You're willing to fight back. You aren't submissive like the rest."_

 _I shook my head. "Maybe that's the wrong choice."_

" _No, Aster." His hand grasped mine roughly. "You_ have _to fight. You can't forget yourself." His eyes were urgent. "You tell me you won't join. I accept that. But the others cannot… they_ will _not."_

 _I tried to smile. "If you scare me, then how can I be brave?"_

" _Bravery is knowing the truth, Aster. It's looking truth in the face, no matter how awful, and standing your ground."_

" _So what happens now?" I whispered. "What will Aro do?"_

 _Marcus opened his mouth, ready to speak, but his eyes flickered, looking past me. "Heidi is here for you."_

 _I turned, but couldn't see her. After a second, though, she appeared, her painted face forced into a smile. "Hello, darling. I have your supper ready."_

 _I turned quickly, looking for Marcus, but he was gone._

 _ **September 28**_ _ **th**_ _ **,**_

 _Even now, I can't forget this conversation. It was comforting, yes, but… did I learn anything? Am I any safer? It's almost like there's something behind me, waiting in the dark, ready to spring, but I can't see it. I don't even know what it is, and that's what terrifies me the most._

 _He was trying to tell me. I'm sure of it. He wanted to tell me, but then Heidi showed up. I think she's still mad about the "escape" incident. Either that, or I'll hear from her soon. She isn't one to keep her feelings to herself for long._

 _Oh, no. Someone just knocked at the door. I'll be back. Hopefully it's Renata…?_

 _ **Later…**_

 _It was Aro. When I saw the cloak sweeping around the door, my heart nearly stopped. Of course, then it had to start again, because he spoke to me._

" _Good evening, Aster," he said, just like the first time. He looked at my diary. "Your dedication to that book is inspiring."_

" _I have nothing else to do."_

" _I'm sorry about that," he apologized._

 _I snapped my diary shut, tucking my pen in the loose binding. "What news from the Underworld?" I asked, heavily sarcastic._

 _Aro chuckled. "You are precious, little one." But his smile was strained. There was something under the surface, a rising anger. "I need your help, Aster," he said finally._

" _Me?"_

" _Yes. How long have you been with us?"_

" _A month, I guess."_

" _A month." He repeated it slowly. "It's not much, for a vampire, I'll admit. You, on the other hand, should consider it a triumph."_

 _Were we getting somewhere? "Why?"_

 _He smiled at me. "In the past four decades, no other human guest has survived as long as you. Do you know why, Aster?"_

" _No."_

" _Because I_ want _you," he whispered. "I want you to join us. I want your gifts for my coven; to see your potential."_

" _You've said that already," I interrupted, irritated. "I've never noticed anything great about myself."_

 _He laughed. "You haven't a vampire's sight."_

 _I scoffed, turning away. "When did you figure_ that _out?" I muttered. I reached for my bureau, curling my fingers about the knob, when a sudden force yanked me backwards._

" _Don't do that," Aro hissed in my ear. "Don't turn away when I'm talking to you."_

 _His hand pinned my arm behind my back, while the other bent my left wrist. I gasped as a throbbing pain shot down my arm._

" _Better," he said gently. "You can follow orders, after all."_

" _Let go of me!"_

" _Oh, stop begging. It doesn't become you."_

" _Tell me what you want," I gasped. "Just tell me, then let me go."_

 _His breath blew in my face. "You know it already, Aster."_

" _No! I said no."_

 _His head dipped lower, searching for my throat. "That won't do, love. You know that."_

" _Is there something else?" I pleaded. "Surely you have other options?"_

 _His lips burned my flesh. "You tempt me, my dear. Perhaps I'll consider it." His hands gripped me harder, and I clenched my teeth in pain. I hated him. I hated him for making me so helpless. I could stand on my own, for God's sake. I'd done it before. But I couldn't_ move…

" _You know what I love best?" he whispered. "I love hearing my victim's thoughts, soaking up their memories, whilst they themselves are immobile." He licked my throat, and I had a vision of a leech crawling across human flesh. "Calling me names won't help you," he smirked._

 _He let me go at last, and I clutched my sprained wrist._

" _So stubborn," he murmured regretfully. "But I've reached the end of my patience, Aster. I and my brothers. We are not as strong as you think us."_

" _Go to hell," I groaned. My arm was numb._

 _Aro knelt before me, baring his teeth. "Too late for that," he laughed quietly._


	14. Chapter 14

_September 29_ _th_ _,_

' _Go to hell,' I said? I'd send myself if I could. Anything's better than this den of murderers. Or is slaughterhouse a better word?_

" _No, Aster," I whisper to myself. "Don't. It's not a joke." Then tell me what_ _to joke about, for heaven's sake?! I'm drowning here, and all I can do is scribble madly in a book and talk to myself._

 _September 30_ _th_ _,_

 _I had an invitation today. Free admission, front-row seats. That is all I will say for now, until my hands stop shaking. My hair is stained, my clothes are bloody, and I can hear nothing but screams. I can't write anymore._

 _October 3_ _rd_ _,_

 _Thank God. They've left me alone thus far. It took Heidi an hour to help me get the blood off, and even then she had to switch with Renata, unable to bear the smell. I was probably like a big candy snack to them._

" _There," they said softly, smoothing my hair. "You're alright. Just have a long sleep and you'll feel better."_

 _That's what I thought, too. But I was only too happy to wake up, five hours later, sweating with faded nightmares. If Aro asks me again, I'll kill myself. I can't bear it. I will not watch it again, reliving that first horrible day. I no longer wonder why the ancients don't get their robes all bloody. They weren't sitting up close, like I was, huddling on the steps that stayed clean only for the first two seconds._

 _October 5_ _th_ _,_

 _Renata came to see me today. I knew she had bad news even before she opened her mouth._

" _Feeling alright?" she asked timidly._

" _Ok. How about you?"_

 _She grinned, although it quickly disappeared. "I'm fine." I remember how nervous she looked; her hands kept clutching at her cloak, as if desperate to be doing something. She paused by my bed, looking down at the morning tray. "Does Heidi remove this?" she asked randomly._

" _Yes. Regularly."_

 _Renata sighed, then faced me. "I like you, Aster. You know that, don't you?"_

" _Of course."_

" _So you know that whatever happens, I was not a part of it?"_

 _I frowned. "What are you talking about?"_

 _She lifted her hand. "Just don't blame me, alright?" She took another deep breath. "Remember when my master asked you to visit him the other day?"_

 _I nodded._

" _Well, that wasn't just an invitation. He wants you there…watching…every week from now on."_

 _I gasped._ "What?"

 _She dropped her gaze. "Sometimes more than that. Our feeding varies."_

" _What's the purpose of_ that?" _I laughed harshly. "Does he think that by_ watching _them kill I'll change my mind?"_

" _Aster…"_

 _I stood up. "How do_ you _kill your victims, Renata?"_

 _Her eyes widened. "Aster!"_

" _Come on, tell me! I want to know."_

" _That has nothing to do with—"_

" _Yes it does. Do you slice them up? Torture them? Do you bite them carelessly, letting the blood run while they suffer, and come back after the next victim?" She was backing away from me. "Do you_ see _it?!" I shouted. "Do you see the terror in their eyes? Or do you lose empathy along with mortality?"_

 _I stood there, shaking, the anger running white-hot through me. But it wasn't for her. She looked so small, huddling by the bedpost, trying to utter calm words to me._

" _I'm sorry, Renata," I whispered. "I've just been through hell, that's all."_

 _She rustled forward, touching my cheek. "No," she said. "You're right about us. We_ are _monsters, I suppose. But it's the only way we can live. It's our lot in life. No, Aster. I do not torture my victims. You'd be surprised how many of us don't. It is only in_ that _room the worst occurs, and…" She paused, her lips trembling. "…and that is why he wants you there. To see... everything."_

" _Everything," I repeated mechanically._

" _Do you want me to stay for awhile?" she asked. "An hour, perhaps?"_

 _I patted her shoulder, mumbling something incoherent. It's ok, I told her. I'll get through it. I'm a big girl, I said, smiling. Don't worry about it._

 _She left, only a little reassured, because I was looking pale. "I'll come back," she called out softly._

 _I held myself in until she left, then rushed to the grate in the corner of the room. Clutching the rusty bars, I retched into it violently. The smell was terrible, but the mental images were worse._

 _They're breaking me down._

 _October 7_ _th_ _,_

 _Something's going on. Heidi barely talks to me anymore, and Renata hasn't visited, as she promised. I'm entirely alone._

 _I guess I never understood the meaning of "solitary confinement," but you can be sure I do now. When I was little, my dad used to tell me the story of Edmond Dantés, from Alexandre Dumas' great novel. I asked for it almost every night. The tale was long and complex, so every night my imagination had new wonders to discover. Sometimes, after he turned out the light, I would have nightmares of myself rolling about in a dungeon, sick with hunger and loneliness and thirst. These frightened me, but I didn't care. I wanted to hear more. What happened to Edmond? Did he exact revenge on his enemies? Did he ever see his love again?_

 _These memories are very sweet, so I go back to them as often as I can. My mom used to have a "memory book," where she wrote down bits of her life as she remembered it. Childhood, first day of school, and so on. I always wanted to do the same, but I never had the time. Now I do, and all I want to do is rip up these pages._

 _Wait a minute… No, never mind. I thought I heard a knock. I never know whether to hide or leap for joy when someone comes, because they all knock the same. Aro's knock is just as polite as Renata's. I did happen to see them together once, when I got my sordid invitation. She was standing by the door, waiting for her master, as he brushed the last drop of blood from his lips. Then he turned towards her, and a smile I'd never seen before lit his face. He put his arm 'round her little shoulders, and they walked off together, murmuring softly in Italian. I remember feeling a catch in my throat. I'd seen that look before. Many times. Only_ his _eyes were blue, and his hands were warm, not cold like a grave._


	15. Chapter 15

**" _It's only in my mind_**

 ** _Not in real life_**

 ** _No, I must be dreaming…"_**

 ** _October 11_ _th_**

 _This is the first time I've been willing to write for nearly a week. I've been through hell, and something tells me this is only the beginning. I don't want to record this, but I have no choice. It's as if there's a voice in my head that begs me to tell everything, exactly how it happens. I don't know. Maybe there's a small part of me that hopes—beyond all hope—that somehow,_ someone _will read this, and save anyone else from sharing the same fate._

 _The evening after I wrote my last entry, someone else came to visit. He didn't introduce himself. He didn't even speak to me. He walked in my room, surveyed it critically, then motioned his guards to escort me out. We followed him for a long ways, down a staircase, and across another long hall before he stopped at a door. He pulled back his hood then, and I recognized Aro's brother, Caius. He unlocked the door, leading me inside with exaggerated courtesy. I was surrounded by complete darkness._

" _Well?" he said, gesturing around. "Do you like it?"_

 _I raised my eyebrows. There was nothing to see. "It's… great," I mumbled._

" _Oops!" he said, laughing suddenly. "I must have forgotten the lights! How silly of me." He reached past me. Strong, electric light flooded the room, and I froze. ._

 _Whips—four of them, to be exact—hung off to my left, each varying in size and thickness. The largest had bits of glass or metal tied in its strips, while the smallest looked like a morbid toy for children. Past these was a crude desk, with several boxes of candles on top, and plenty of matches off to the side. In growing horror, my eyes followed the whole width of the room: knives, daggers, curved instruments, chains, leather straps, handcuffs—he had everything._

 _A breath of air passed me, and I looked up to see Caius. His face was positively demonic. "Welcome to hell," he whispered._

 _I turned, running for the exit, but four hands caught me, dragging me back. I kicked and writhed, fighting back wildly, but it was useless. Felix slapped me soundly, halting my movements, and I felt my wrist being enclosed in an iron cuff. A gigantic vampire, probably Felix's brother, fixed my other hand. They stepped away, allowing Caius to come closer._

" _Very nice," he said approvingly. "Wonderful stamina." I kicked at his stomach, which he avoided easily. "Although I think we need a_ few _more restraints… Santiago?"_

" _Master?" rumbled the giant._

" _The other pair, please."_

 _My feet were speedily manacled. I was entirely helpless. That being said, I did the one thing I could. I spat at his feet. Caius regarded the stain with amusement. "What a defense," he mocked. "Now, if you don't mind, I'd like to get started."_

" _Oh, by all means!" I snapped. Anger, I realized, hid your fear. "I'm just dying to see all your pretty toys!"_

" _Not yet," he said calmly, casting his eye about the room. "Death only visits the weak."_

 _I shut my mouth._

 _Caius waved to the two vampires, and they left us. Striding across the room, he fingered the whips, finally going for the smallest one. "Easy does it," he sang to himself. He stretched it out a little, tightening the round nub, then walked back towards me. He looked up and down my body, as if wondering where to start._

" _Can I ask a favor?" I said quickly._

 _He smiled. "I don't give favors, but go ahead."_

" _Blindfold me. Before you start."_

 _He leaned forward, touching the cold handle to my cheek. "Interesting," he said softly. "But, unfortunately, my policy stands. No favors."_

 _He stood back, lifting his arm, and the thin straps lashed across my face. I closed my eyes, biting my lip 'til it bled. The pain burned, settling for a dull throb until he struck me again. I could taste the blood in my mouth. It ran down in rivulets, masking my face. I spit repeatedly, but my mouth soon filled again._

" _Open your eyes!" he demanded. "Open your eyes, d— you!"_

 _I opened them, and the whip bore down again, only this time on my arms. It stung terribly, as did my cheeks and forehead._

" _Felix!" Caius snarled. I felt a fumbling at my feet, and a sharp tear as my jeans were cut away. Only a thin line of material remained, baring my skin. Caius laughed, and the blood ran down my legs, too. He continued in this way, lashing different areas systematically, until the stones at my feet were seeped in red._

" _Release her," he said softly. "That will do for today."_

 _My cuffs were unlocked, and I fell to the floor, weak from loss of blood. The smell burnt my nostrils, strong and coppery-sweet. I was dragged to my feet. Caius, I saw, was cleaning his whip, wiping the stains with careful gestures. As we passed him, he stopped us._

" _One moment," he said. I was jerked to my left, coming face-to-face with a gilt, full-length mirror. It was only a second before I turned away._

" _What's wrong, sweetheart?" Caius purred. "Does it not suit you?"_

" _Take it away," I moaned. "Just take it away."_

 _But they didn't. Felix held my face, bruising my jaw, until the reflection was burnt into my mind. I cried silently, watching the tears make trails in the mess. I used to think the worst image was seeing your parents dead, their poor limbs broken. I was wrong. There was no blood from the crash. No blood… nothing. Just their bodies lying there, reflected in my horrified eyes…_

" _Take Aster to her room," Caius was saying cheerfully. He patted my shoulder. I flinched, and he laughed again. The two guards were laughing, too. They didn't stop, all the way to my room, where they left me to open it myself with numb fingers. I stepped inside, and saw Renata. She was perched on the edge of the bed, and rose quickly at my entrance._

" _Hello, Renata," I said softly, before blacking out._

 ** _Later…_**

 _I had to pause there, partly from my own horror, and partly because Heidi came to give me clean clothes. She didn't say anything. Just dropped them on my bed and walked out._

 _So… I saw Renata. And fainted. I'd never fainted in my life. Not even when I got flu shots and all that. I never needed blood drawn, so why worry there, either? I was a healthy, strong girl. That's the key word. "Was." It's debatable now. But I fainted all the same. When I came to, Renata was there, dabbing at my face. I looked at her wearily, and realized she'd removed her cloak, and was using it to clean my injuries. A basin of water sat beside her._

" _Heidi brought it," she told me, seeing I was awake. Then she fell quiet again. The cool water soothed my face, washing the crust from my hair. Sometimes it stung, but she didn't stop, not until every drop of blood was washed away._

" _Now_ that _looks better," she said, sighing with relief. "I almost had a stroke when you came in."_

" _Vampires have strokes?" I joked feebly._

" _It's a figure of speech, dear." She helped me to my feet, and together we found some new clothes, giving my torn, bloody ones to Heidi when she came with fresh water._

" _Grazie, Heidi," Renata murmured. She closed the door, then came back to help me. I winced as I pulled on new jeans. My flesh was still remarkably tender._

" _Renata?" I asked._

" _Yes?"_

" _Will I have scars?"_

 _Her red eyes were sad. "I wouldn't worry about scars, Aster. But no, these are just minor gashes. Painful, but not long-lasting." She smiled at me. "Like a paper cut."_

 _I didn't smile back. "How can you bear it?" I whispered. "How can you stand it, being with him?"_

 _She sighed. "Caius is not my master."_

" _You know who I mean. Aro suggested this, didn't he?"_

" _I can't tell you that, Aster."_

" _You can't tell me anything!" I slammed the closet door, ignoring the pain that shot down my arm._

" _I try, you know," she said softly. "I really do try."_

" _I'm not a plaything, Renata. They can't just batter me about, doing as they please."_

 _She nodded. "No... you're right."_

" _Exactly! Can't you tell Aro that?"_

" _That's not what I meant," she whispered. "You_ are _just a plaything, Aster. They_ can _play with you, and they will."_


	16. Chapter 16

Aro smiled as Caius entered the room. _"You're_ looking happy, brother," he remarked.

"Yes, I suppose I am," Caius grinned. "I haven't had this much fun in months."

Aro raised his eyebrow. "I let you have that American three weeks ago, didn't I?"

"Oh, that was nothing. The fool died before I'd even started."

Aro leaned forward eagerly. "And the girl? She's stronger?"

"Oh, yes, certainly," his brother replied. Then he frowned a little. "She isn't much of a screamer, though. I'll have to work on that."

"Nothing like a torture chamber without screams," Marcus said dryly.

Aro chuckled. "Come to think of it, brother, I haven't yet asked _your_ viewpoint on all this."

"Do you need to?"

"Of course! Do you think I'd execute a plan without consulting either of you?"

Marcus' eyes were dark. "It doesn't sound like you need me at all. The girl is suffering just fine without my help."

Aro glanced at Caius, and they shared a smile. He moved to Marcus' side, where he sat, brooding. "You pity her, then?" he asked softly.

"Let it rest, Aro."

Aro touched his hand. "No… I must say, Marcus, this touches me deeply. You and Renata seem to be in accord with one another."

Marcus glanced up, irritated. "Renata? What does she have to do with it?"

"She pities Aster, the sweet thing. She's been sulking about for days, only because I won't tell her our plans for the girl."

Marcus rose. "Suppose you tell me, then?"

Aro rubbed his hands together. "Ah, but that would spoil the surprise!"

"You _said_ you would consult with us."

"Oh, let him know, brother," interjected Caius. "What is there to hide?"

Renata walked down the hall softly. She could hear Aro's voice, soft and sonorous, through the walls, but no words were distinguishable. She moved closer, pressing her ear to the massive doors.

"…until she realizes what she's dealing with," she heard him say.

"I don't understand, Aro."

Renata leaned even closer, fascinated in spite of herself. She had never heard Marcus sound so agitated. "That's barbaric," he continued. "We've never done that before."

She heard Caius' sharp, nasal voice. "All the more reason."

Marcus didn't sound pleased. "She must be _alive_ for the process," he insisted. "Are you taking precautions?"

"Oh, yes," Aro replied.

Caius laughed loudly. "Definitely." Renata heard them both snickering, and then Marcus' voice as it rose in anger. "Do as you wish then," he snapped. "Only leave _me_ out of it!"

Rapid footsteps clicked across the marble. Renata stepped back, barely avoiding the doors as they were flung open. Marcus stood there, his face white with rage. His head jerked, finding her face in the darkness. She stared back at him, unable to remove her gaze. She blinked, and he was gone, a breath of air past her.

She shook herself, unnerved, then walked through the doors to find her master. He was standing with Caius, speaking rapidly in low, eager tones.

"Ah!" he called, upon spotting her. "Just the little _angelo_ I wished to see!"

She gave him her hand, smiling, and he sighed. "Poor Marcus," he said regretfully. "He _does_ get anxious about the most trivial things."

"Such as?" She kept her face smooth, relieved he no longer touched her.

"Nothing, my child," he said. He took her face in his hands, placing a kiss upon her lips. "Now run along. My brother and I have much to discuss."

"Master," she said nervously. "I've been wanting to speak with you—"

"Not now, Renata. Please leave us."

"But, my lord, it's important."

"Renata…"

She stopped, looking at his cold face. Then she bowed to both of them, leaving the room as quietly as she could. There was nothing more for her to say. She glided down the hall, her face somber, until she stopped outside a familiar door. She listened. Someone had cried out from inside; the cry that comes from troubled dreams.

The small vampire sighed, sitting down against the wall. A blood-soaked rag lay near her foot. She picked it up, fingering it, then swiftly tore it to pieces.


	17. Chapter 17

**_October 13_ _th_ _,_**

 _It's not on a Friday this year, but that's irrelevant. How cursed could you get, shut up in here? I've begun hiding my diary when Heidi comes in. I have a suspicion she's trying to steal it, or spy on me. It doesn't help I've seen her talking with Caius. For all I know, she already_ has _read it, and all of them have stood together, laughing over my pitiful aches and pains. The thought fills me with revulsion. It's bad enough Aro has read my mind, probing into my past. I don't want him reading these pages—reading about Mom and Dad. Although I seemed to doomed to suffer, the_ least _I can do is protect them. Keep their memories from devil's fingers…_

 _An hour later…_

 _Not again. Oh, please, God, not again. Someone's knocking at the door, and I can hear Felix's deep voice vibrating through the wood. I won't go. I'll fight them… I'll do anythi_

 ** _October 15_ _th_ _,_**

 _So much pain. I don't even have the strength to cry… to write…_

 ** _October 16_ _th_ _,_**

 _The last entry is blotted, but not by my tears. I didn't have the strength, remember? They fell down my face—only it wasn't my face—and dripped onto words I scarcely saw. Renata has given me a fresh pen, and the ink bubbles up like blood from the nib._

 _Save your breath. It wasn't blood this time. My torturer is creative. He used the last thing I expected—the last thing I would have guessed from a vampire._ Do they not burn? _I remember thinking._ Are they not terrified by flame? _They seem to have no weaknesses… no feeling… I remember thinking this, and Caius' grin of delight as I let out my first scream…_

 _I can't write like this. I'm torturing you, and I'm torturing myself. It's easier to think it out carefully and tell it to myself as if I were only an observer. As if I stood there, watching myself, like an out-of-body experience._

 _Yes. I will tell it like that._

Caius was happy to see her. She was less-than-delighted, of course, but he didn't notice. He ran his cold fingers down her skin, examining the shallow, pink lines. "It's hardly noticeable," he said, frowning. "I shan't use that method again. Gentlemen, go ahead."

She struggled a little, as was only natural, but they had her chained soon enough. The iron had obviously been pulled tighter, for it dug into her skin (later on, it would fester, encircling her wrist and ankles with raw, hideous marks).

"You've fed, I hope?" Caius asked. She looked up, thinking he spoke to her, but he was looking at the guards. Felix mumbled something, and she saw the black of his eyes.

"You know better, Felix," his master said coldly. "Be grateful she isn't bleeding today."

The girl sighed. Her relief was short-lived, however. The white-haired vampire was humming, running his fingers along a different set of tools. Her blood chilled as he touched a sharp, ax-like object. Then his hand moved away.

"Pity she's a woman," he murmured. He walked further, past the guards. He stopped before the desk, where the candles lay, and gleefully lit a match. The box was torn open, the candle was lit, and he glided towards her with careful steps.

"Do you fancy fire?" he said politely, as if conversing with a stranger. The flame reflected in his glassy eyes. He seemed to delight in it, passing a finger through it occasionally.

"Not really," the girl whispered. She could feel her heart hammering against her ribs.

"Pity," he answered. "For the fire seems to fancy you."

He brought it towards her face, letting the wax drip down the edges. A drop fell by her foot, brushing the skin, and she stifled a cry of pain. She flattened herself against the wall, saying something unintelligible.

"What was that, dear?" he asked.

"The whip!" she stammered. "Please!"

Caius laughed. "Do you hear that, gentlemen?" he said, turning slightly. "She begs for torture!"

Their answering laughter was lost on her ears. The wax was very hot now. It oozed down the candle, which was brought ever closer to her face.

"Please!" she begged. "Please don't!"

Caius was fascinated. Lifting the flame, he brushed it down her outstretched arm, going as slowly as possible. She bit her tongue, tears squeezing from her eyes. He repeated the action on the other arm, singing the tips of her fingers. She sobbed like a child, but she did not scream.

Caius stepped back, frustrated. Her flesh was bright pink, blistering in some areas, but not severely. It was obvious she wouldn't die today. She wondered, through the pain, if he'd promised Aro, and that's why he was so tentative.

"Take this," he ordered, holding out the candle. Felix snatched it, dousing the wax quickly in a basin of water. She saw Caius' hands—they were covered in a strange, gooey substance. She was having trouble concentrating. He reached out to her, and his hands clapped firmly on each side of her face.

She screamed. She screamed until her voice cracked, and even then she was making terrible sounds; sounds that would make a strong man cry. His hands, hot with wax, released her face, and the pain was even worse. Her skin writhed and burned under this new infliction. She could feel her hair, sticky with sweat, brushing the exposure. The room was rank with the smell of burnt hair… burnt flesh. She screamed again.

Caius sighed delightedly, and she heard a splashing sound as he cleansed his hands. He was talking to her. "Usually I wait for fire, my dear, it being my favorite, but I confess you were irritating me. I can usually make a human scream in one session."

"Oh, God," she moaned.

"No," he said, smiling sweetly. "None of that, please. There is no God in hell."

They didn't release her immediately this time. They let her hang there, writhing in her pain, for at least another hour. Then Caius returned, only to empty the basin of water tauntingly at her feet. He watched her lips, cracked and desperate, and the raw curling of her skin, and smiled.

"I had to let go quickly, you see," he said suddenly. "If I didn't, it would have harmed me, as well… only less painfully." He smiled. "Of course."

Then he left again, and she hung there until Aro's guard came, bathing her body in warm water.

 _That is all._

 ** _October 17_ _th_ _,_**

 _That mirror again. It's a good thing I'm still too weak to stand, or I'd have to see myself. I already have, once. I saw my reflection as Renata led me out the door. I looked like something from the Twilight Zone, with two red handprints branded on my face. Renata had to cut my hair to shoulder length, as the smell was growing unbearable. She said Aro would come to see me today, although she doesn't know when._

 _I could care less. When I told her that, she shook her head. "Please don't antagonize him, Aster," she begged. "It will save you a great deal of pain."_

 _I smiled, my face ghastly. "Too late for that."_

 _She removed a poultice from my leg, replacing it with a fresh one. "Oh, and stay away from Heidi. I think she's growing jealous of you."_

" _Jealous?" I winced as she touched my face. "What kind of crap is_ that?"

" _You're getting all the attention. She was quite a bit in Aro's favor before you came, and now he's disregarded her to observe you."_

" _I don't need to avoid her. She does that well enough."_

" _Good. You'll have one less enemy then." Her fingers danced lightly across my skin, patting the burns with cool water._

 _My throat felt tight. "I'm lucky to have your friendship, Renata."_

 _She smiled at me. "You know you are."_

 ** _October 18_ _th_ _,_**

 _I'm in shock. My body shows no visible damage, and yet I feel naked; stripped of my soul and all else. The tears keep coming, until I don't have strength to cry. "How dare you," I whisper. "How dare you, how_ dare _you…"_

 _Yes, he dared._

 _Late last night—possibly early morning—I was asleep. The pain had finally faded to a dull throb, and I was able to snatch a few hours of rest. These were disrupted, rudely, by a sudden force ripping off the blanket. A sharp voice spoke to me. I sat up, leaning on my elbow. My eyes were blurry with sleep. "What?" I demanded._

" _Get up."_

 _Ice shot down my spine. It was Aro, and his face was livid. "Get up!" he repeated._

 _I obeyed him, stumbling to my feet. "What do you want?" I was in too much pain and too sleepy to think of a snide remark._

 _He leaned towards me, forcing me against the wall. "You think yourself very clever, don't you?" he hissed. "You think you can make a fool of me, of_ all _of us, with your stubborn bullheadedness?"_

 _I had never seen him like this. Gone was the politeness. Gone was the inane personality. A monster stood before me._

" _Are you listening, my love?" he leered. His hand seized my chin. "Answer me!"_

 _I stared up at him. He grabbed my shoulder, flinging me away from him. I landed on the bed, unhurt but terrified._

" _Why?" he snapped. "Why are you being so difficult?" I tried to rise, but he was on top of me, pinning me down. "I offer you immortality, and_ this _is how you repay me?"_

" _Not all of us want it," I gasped, finding my voice._

 _He ran a hand down my throat. "I could do it, you know," he whispered. "I could change you, right here, and no one would be the wiser. You would be one of us in a moment."_

" _But you won't," I challenged. "You won't, because it will be like Marcus all over again."_

 _He froze. "What do you know of Marcus?"_

" _Nothing, but I saw… He doesn't want to be here. He doesn't want to kill. It's there, in his eyes."_

 _Aro relaxed, for some reason. "Clever girl," he said. He shifted his weight, keeping a firm grasp on my body. My burns were aching under his touch. "So you refuse me still?" he whispered._

" _Yes!"_

 _Both his hands rose, stroking my throat. It was a soothing gesture, but it did not dispel my revulsion. "You hate me," he murmured, his voice hypnotic. "You think us murderers. You would die suffering, rather than join us. Don't deny it! I have all your secrets, Aster." He bent down, breathing against me softly. "You have satisfied Caius, and by God, you_ are _going to satisfy me."_

 _His face was very close. I heard something rip. My body jerked instinctively, and I pounded my fists against his chest. I remember how terrified I felt. He was going to rape me. I was sure of it._

 _He chuckled into my neck. "Calm yourself, precious. It's not your body I'm after… well, not_ all _of it, anyway."_

" _Get off me!" I screamed._

 _My frantic attempts only brought him closer. "I must give Caius credit," he murmured. "He left your throat untainted. You're so sweet, Aster. So sweet… so young… so desirable…"_

 _His grip grew tighter and tighter, and I felt as if I were encircled in the arms of Hell. He bent again to my neck, and I thought he meant to kiss it. Imagine my horror when his teeth dug into me, gashing the vein like an animal._

 _I didn't scream. I couldn't._

 _I remember the horror, yes, but above all, I remember my utter helplessness. A strange, lethargic feeling spread over me, and I felt my head drop back against his arm. Images flashed before my eyes—as terrible as they were vivid—and I saw myself lying on a marble floor, drowning in my own blood. The Volturi coven crouched around me, tongues licking teeth. But it was their master who had his fill. It was their master alone who held me._

" _Ah…" Aro said softly. He sipped at my throat like it was nectar, groaning with delight. His mouth moved silently, something Italian. I laid there; helpless, immobile. When he released his grip, breathing deeply, I pushed away. My body hit the floor, but I stood again, grasping the walls for support. I could hear him laughing behind me._

" _You won't leave," he said mockingly. "You haven't the energy, my pet."_

 _He was right. I collapsed, five feet from the door. Maybe if I crawled… But he was in front of me. He lifted my body, and I hadn't the strength to fight. His mouth found me again, and my throat began to burn. "Aster," he purred. "My little star…"_

 _I began to cry—wrenching sobs that weren't mine. That was my father's name for me. His and no one else's. My mother had many endearments, but that was his alone. His star…_

" _Stop," I sobbed. "Stop calling me that."_

" _Why, my love?" He sucked my neck, caressing me. "Because it was your father's? He is dead, Aster. He is dead, and cannot help you."_

 _I remember trying to speak, trying to hit him, but it was like when I'd fainted before. The ceiling and ground came together, crushing me, and I forgot everything. When I came to, hours later, the room was pitch black, and I was entirely alone._

 _I can't write anymore._

 ** _October 19_ _th_ _,_**

 _My neck hurts. My body hurts. I think I've grown accustomed to pain, and then something else happens. "What now?" I want to scream. "What will you do to me now?!" There is no answer. There is nothing but pain. I swear Aro is keeping Renata from me._

 _I am alone._


	18. Chapter 18

**_October 23_ _rd_ _,_**

 _No sign of Aro, but I can't say as much for his brother. Two days ago, he forced me back in his ghastly torturing chamber. The cuffs have almost grown to feel like home. They're stained with my blood… they smell of my agony… I kept begging him to blindfold me, but it was like talking to a wall. He just smiled, humming to himself, and reached again for the flame._

 _My burns are fresh. I can hardly move for the pain. When my screams began to fade, he stopped, jotting something down quickly on paper. "Release her," he said to his guards. "But don't forget the rope."_

 _I remember Santiago holding me, his stone face expressionless, as Felix came towards me. I screamed as he touched me. The rope was hot, dipped in the remaining wax, but not enough to burn away. I couldn't say the same for my flesh. It blistered up angrily, outraged at such barbaric treatment. Only when my wrists and ankles were secured did they carry me back. They left me on the floor, helpless to extricate myself. My flesh was burning._

" _Renata!" I remember screaming. My voice was half-gone. "Renata!"_

 _She came, quicker than I'd dreamed possible. Her lips touched my face, and her hands shredded my bonds. When she saw my torn, blistered flesh, a soft moan escaped her._

" _Aster," she pleaded. "Try to sit up, dear."_

 _I did so, with her help. I leant against the wall, my breathing ragged. She was kneeling beside me, her hands wet with spilled water. "Here," she said, bringing something to my lips. I drank, but the real pain was elsewhere. I cried out as the liquid touched the fresh wounds._

" _There, there," she soothed. "It will be alright."_

" _You'll get in trouble," I whispered. "Caius will find out."_

" _He's done enough today," she said. "I care not for his anger." Her fingers were tender, running over my skin._

" _How long?" I asked. "How long will this go on?"_

" _Drink," she said, lifting the cup again._

" _Don't ignore me, Renata."_

" _You need water, Aster. You're dehydrated."_

" _I don't give a crap."_

 _She sighed. "Has Heidi been bringing you food? She should have."_

" _You're still ignoring me."_

" _I don't know, Aster!" she cried. "You keep thinking I run the Volturi, but I don't!"_

" _But…" I winced, the pain flaring up. "You're_ his _guard."_

" _Immaterial. I protect Aro. I do not direct his mind."_

 _I leaned my head back. "Oh, God…"_

 _She stroked my arms, her fingers cold. "Come," she said gently. "Pull yourself together, love. I'm not going anywhere. You'll get better, Aster. You'll heal, and go on living—"_

" _I don't_ want _to live!" I screamed. She dropped her hands, staring at me. There was a long pause. I wiped my eyes, my fingers mottled and burnt. "I don't want to live," I repeated._

 _I heard her moving away, towards the door. I stumbled to my feet, grabbing her arm before she left. "Wait!"_

" _I can't help you, Aster," she said miserably._

" _I'm not asking for help. I'm asking for mercy." I clenched her arm tighter._ "Kill _me."_

 _She tore away. "No!"_

" _Do it!" I pleaded. "For me, Renata. As a friend."_

 _Her lips trembled. "Why are you asking me this? That isn't mercy."_

" _I'm_ dying, _Renata!" I sobbed. "I'm dying in here! Why can't you_ help _me?!"_

 _She opened her mouth, torn, but then her body stiffened. The door opened softly, and someone stood behind her._

" _Come along, Renata," Aro whispered. "This is no place for you."_

 _I reached out to her, but she was already gone. Aro caught my hand, instead, lifting it to his lips._

" _Let go of me, swine!" I hissed. I moved away quickly, retreating to the farthest corner of my room._

 _He followed me. "Aster… Aster…" His voice was so silky, so beautiful, that if I hadn't known better, I would have sworn it was my father's. The comparison made me cry again, drawing up my knees tightly. He knelt beside me, ignoring my disgust._

" _There is someone here to see you," he said softly. "Shall I admit them?"_

" _Get away from me."_

" _I'll take that for assent," he chuckled, rising. "Marcus?" he called out._

 _I turned my head despite myself. Marcus wanted to see me? I saw him standing in the doorway, regarding me silently. At his brother's voice, he bent, fitting his body into the crammed space. Aro passed him, and I heard a low murmur of Italian as they spoke._

" _Farewell, Aster," he said to me. He patted his brother's shoulder, then disappeared._

 _Marcus watched him leave, then turned around. Nothing was said for awhile. Then, with a deep sigh, he glided across the room towards the only space where the ceiling was high enough to admit him. There was a rustling sound as he adjusted his robes, then it was quiet again._

" _You suffer," he said suddenly. His voice was soft, thick with emotion. "I don't expect an answer," he went on. "You have gone through much pain, for which I am sorry."_

" _Thank you," I whispered. I meant it._

 _He sighed, shifting his position. Then he spoke again. "What was it today?" he asked._

" _Fire."_

" _Ah." Marcus shook his head. "Few of us are brave enough to play with it. I myself have no liking for it." He paused. "May I see?" he said, very gently._

 _I looked up at him. There was nothing but compassion in his eyes. I tried to move. "My legs—" I began to say. "I can't…"_

 _He knelt, quicker than my eyes could see. Taking my hand, he examined the burns, trailing up my arms. He made a strange noise in his throat, like a cough. "Do they hurt badly?" he asked._

 _I shrugged. "It's fine."_

 _He smiled, his face softening. Then his fingers began to rub the scars, cold and soothing as snow. I felt myself relax, even daring to close my eyes. He didn't say anything, but worked his way up my skin, until he reached the grotesque marks on my throat._

 _I cringed. A tear left my eyes, staining his finger._

 _A sigh blew across my face. He left my throat, massaging the searing burns from my jaw to my forehead. When he reached my legs, fragile and raw with pain, I felt myself falling apart. Just as Aro's voice reminded me of my father, so did his brother's touch. I was a little girl again, and my mind wandered…_

"Don't!" my mother screamed. "Don't touch that, Aster!"

But she was too late. I leaped back from the stove, clutching my tiny, scorched hand. She and my father swarmed around me; propping me on the sofa, massaging my hand, wiping away the sticky tears…

"Mommy said 'don't,'" I remember my father saying. "Why didn't you listen, sweetie?"

"I don't know!" I wailed. My bawling soon subsided though, replaced by a cherry lollipop. I sucked at it, letting my mother treat the burn, while Daddy made funny noises to make me laugh…

" _Aster?"_

 _I opened my eyes. Marcus was brushing away my tears. "Why are you crying?"_

" _I miss them," I whispered._

" _Your parents?"_

" _How did you know?"_

" _I can feel it," he said simply. "I can feel your love for them."_

 _I remembered what Aro had said—something about supernatural powers. "Really? You feel it?"_

 _He nodded._

 _Hot tears started to my eyes. I brushed at them, ashamed. "I'm sorry," I whispered. "I don't usually cry… not before now, anyway."_

" _Tears are the expression of the soul," he told me. "The only criminals are those who condemn them. Do as you wish, Aster."_

 _Sympathy doesn't help tears. They welled up faster than ever. I couldn't stop them. Marcus touched my cheek, gathering the drops in his hand. A strange feeling reared up inside me. I will never forget the strength of it. It thickened my throat, causing quick, soft moans to escape my lips._

 _Marcus shifted slightly. "You're thinking of your father?" he asked._

" _Yes."_

 _His dark eyes flickered. "Perhaps… if you imagined him vividly… perhaps it would help?"_

" _I am," I sobbed. "It doesn't. Trust me."_

 _He nodded. Don't ask me how it happened. One moment I was sitting there, crying, and the next I was pressed against his robes, feeling his cold hands brush my cheek._

" _Imagine it now," he said._

 _I obeyed him, falling asleep in my father's arms. I woke late this morning, lying in bed, with Renata's poultices wrapped tenderly around each burn._

 _This entry has given me no little pain, but I will say this: I felt happy last night—happy and loved—and that is something I've not felt in a long, long time._


	19. Chapter 19

**Hello again, my lovelies!**

 **Such a HUGE thank you to those who are still with me and reading, even if you don't review. For those of you who have, I love hearing from you and how the story has affected you. I didn't want to post the rest of it so soon, as it is kind of a heavy story and I wanted to give you some time... but I am actually just borrowing the laptop I'm working on and will have to give it back soon. I didn't want to leave you with an unfinished story for who knows how long.**

 **Enjoy. xoxo Petals**

* * *

 **" _We all live; we all die_**

 ** _That does not begin to justify you."_**

 ** _October 24_ _th_ _,_**

 _My regularity in this journal astonishes me. I've seldom been regular at anything. I'm like my mom in that respect. She was always changing her mind, flitting from one thing to another. It used to drive my dad bananas. "For gosh sakes, Michelle!" he'd say. "I like it just the way it is! Take a breather!"_

 _Before he married my mother, my dad had a cigarette addiction. He tried to hide it from her as best he could, but she found out, anyway. "We'll work on it," she told him. "It's_ you _I'm marrying, not an addiction._ You're _what I care about."_

 _It took him two years. By the time I was born, he was virtually "smoke-free." I never saw him smoke, and neither did my mother. "The only thing I want_ you _addicted to is good literature," he used to joke, hugging me. "It's because of you and your mother I stopped, so don't get any ideas about leaving me."_

 _That was ten years ago. We never did leave you, Daddy. But now that I'm alone—now that_ you've _left me—I don't know how to live anymore._

 ** _October 25_ _th_ _,_**

 _Renata came to see me today. She stayed all day, from morning until Heidi brought my last meal. I wanted to ask her about Aro, but I've learned not to. I caught her looking at my throat once or twice, but she kept silent, too. I remember what Marcus said: "Bravery is knowing the truth… looking it in the face, no matter how awful, and standing your ground."_

 _I want to believe him, but it's hard. If Renata spoke it, she'd be lying, for the poor thing can't bear to tell me what she knows. So we talk about anything else, and I stifle my questions. Truth or not, Marcus, it's just too_ _"awful" to face sometimes._

 ** _Later…_**

 _What an appalling ending to the day. If Marcus were to ask for my blood, I would willingly give it, knowing his true self (the very fact he_ doesn't _is prove of that). His brother asks, however, and his brother receives. It's inevitable. I can only watch myself through his poisonous stare, letting him take…and take… and take…_

 _He didn't awaken me this time, nor did he give me much warning. I had bent over, tugging the coverlet over my bed, when his arms jerked me upright, locking me against his chest._

"' _Sigh, no more, ladies, sigh no more,'" he sang in my ear. He twisted me around, playing with my writhing body. He kept singing. "'Men were deceivers ever…'"_

" _What do you want?" I snapped. My nails barely missed his face._

" _Shh… easy does it." He giggled merrily, like a child presented with sweets. "A pounding heart will do little to ease my thirst."_

" _Thirst?" I stared, horrified. "No. No, no, no…"_

" _God, her stubbornness arouses me," he whispered. He released me abruptly. "Go on, Aster. Strike me."_

 _This had to be a trick. "Get out of my room."_

" _It isn't your room, love. You're here as my guest._ Strike _me."_

 _I backed away, unnerved by his glittering eyes. My fingers curved 'round the bedpost. It was a brace for my body, weakened as it was by fear and torture._

 _A smile lit Aro's face. "I know! Let's play a game, shall we?"_

 _The suggestion reminded me of the first day I'd come here, only he'd spoken to my uncle, not to me. I took a breath, feeling slightly sick. "You play. I'll lose."_

 _He smiled. "I am sure I can make you strike me. I mean to enjoy myself, Aster, whether you will or not. Perhaps if I raised your ire?"_

" _Excuse me?"_

" _Anger, my sweet ignorant. If I made you angry…?"_

 _I laughed, then coughed. "You've done all you can do to me, Aro. I haven't the energy to fight."_

" _You fought like a cat just now."_

 _I turned away. "Just leave me alone."_

 _A ticking sound echoed behind me. It sounded like he was tapping his fingers together, or dragging them across the stone walls. It grated on my nerves, as I knew it would. He hummed quietly. I realized, suddenly, that the sound was right behind me. I whirled, lifting my hands, but it was too late. He had bitten me._

" _I thought you were going to… to wait," I gasped. My eyes teared at the pain._

" _Yes," he giggled. "But I meant to catch you unawares, and I succeeded."_

 _The blood trickled down my neck, over my collarbone. Aro cupped his hand, gathering it in his palm. "You taste incredible," he sighed, licking his fingers delightedly._

 _I pushed at his arms, weak with revulsion. "Stop…"_

" _No…" He ran his fingers, now bloody, through my hair. "No, I am enjoying myself too much. I seldom find time for pleasure, Aster."_

" _Oh, I see." I pushed him again, this time punching his stomach. He released me, surprise widening his crimson eyes. Air was hissing through my teeth. "It must be such a strain for you, with the world at your fingertips. You can rape and murder as much as you please. Not me." I backed away, pressing myself against the door. He had not drawn sufficient blood to cripple me. "I will_ not _be your pleasure."_

" _My dear child," he said slowly. "You seem to be under some misconception." Faster than shadow, his body moved, and I was caught, strangled in his grip. "You_ will _serve to sate me, and you_ will _give me pleasure. For alas…" His lips sucked my neck. "Fortune favors the compliant. You have been a_ very _naughty girl."_

 _I tore away from him again, though God knows how I had the strength. "You let my uncle go!" I accused. "You let_ them _go! Why not_ me!"

" _Oh, well, yes." Aro examined the lining of his cloak. "I think it's time I told you the truth about that, Aster."_

 _My face paled. "What do you mean?"_

 _He sighed. "They were never freed, my dear one. It was all a pretense."_

" _You_ kept _them here?" I gasped. "Where are they? Are they safe?"_

 _He giggled a little. "Oh, they're safe, and they will never reveal our little secret, I assure you."_

" _You—" My throat filled. I couldn't speak._

 _Aro watched me silently, half his face in shadow. "Don't look at me like that," he said softly. "Didn't I tell you I never drink children's blood?"_

 _I lunged at him, reaching for his smug, angelic face. I wanted to hurt him; wanted to tear his skin 'til the blood ran down in rivers. He caught me mid-leap, wresting me away from him. I moaned, clasping a twisted wrist, but the anger was too fresh. I rushed forward again, only to be flung back with even more force. My knees buckled, and the wood splintered. I curled up like a paper doll. Aro stood above me, dark and overpowering._

" _Relax, my little tigress," he chuckled. "Let time lick your wounds."_

" _You killed them," I sobbed. "You and your filthy, murderous, bloodsucking—"_

 _He covered my mouth, silencing me. "That will do, my dear. I know what you were going to say, and it doesn't appeal to me. Fancy a sweet girl like you knowing such language!" He laughed to himself. God, I hated that laugh._

 _I cried out as he knelt beside me. His fingers brushed away my hair, and he lifted me against him gently. "Now if you don't mind," he whispered._

" _Damn you!" I screamed._

" _Shh…" He leaned close, and once again I lost all contact with reality._

 _Is this hell?_


	20. Chapter 20

**_October 27_ _th_ _,_**

 _Renata just left. If only I could retain some of the sweetness and energy she brought with her. It's still early morning, and I was just waking when she scampered into my room._

" _Aster," she said breathlessly. "I have good news for you."_

" _Good news?" The words sounded strange. "What is it?"_

 _She knelt beside the bed. "Caius is leaving. He won't be back for a week."_

" _Leaving?"_

" _I do not know why. Paying a few visits, I suppose. My masters rarely leave, but even they venture out occasionally to meet with other covens."_

 _My mind was still stuck on the "leaving" part. I began to laugh, for some reason. Hysterically._

 _Renata raised her eyebrows. "Are you alright?"_

 _I wiped my eyes, leaning back on the pillows. "Yes, of course. It's just that that's the best thing you could have told me right now besides 'you're free.'"_

 _She laughed with me—a little uneasily, I thought. Her fingers were gentle as she rewrapped my burns. "Looking much better," she told me. The injured skin was pink, and the blisters had disappeared. We chatted gaily of other topics, leaving the rest of our thoughts unsaid._

 _I can heal as much as I want this week, but it is only a matter of time. After all, Aro and the rest of the coven do not torture humans… as far as I know, anyway._

 ** _October 28_ _th_ _,_**

 _While dressing my wounds this morning, I noticed Renata was quieter than usual. When I asked what was wrong (somewhat frantically), she just shook her head. It was only a minute, though, before she spoke._

" _Heidi is on duty tomorrow," she said softly. "And then three days after that."_

 _I stared at her. "No," I whispered. "No."_

" _It's Aro's decision, Aster. Not mine."_

" _But I thought…"_

" _You were wrong," she interrupted. "Don't you see? Just because Caius is absent, it doesn't mean you will be free of_ everything. _Rules are rules, and Aro wants you present."_

" _I can't do it, Renata." I covered my face. "I can't watch it anymore."_

 _She gathered up my old bandages, soaking them in water. Her hands gave her an excuse not to look at me. I sat there mutely, trying to restore some semblance of my courage. She pushed the bowl aside, reaching for my neck._

" _Move your hair," she asked gently._

 _I seized the black mass, winding it tighter about my neck._

" _Aster,_ please."

" _No," I snapped. "It's_ my _shame."_

 _She looked at me incredulously. "'Your shame?' Nonsense. Let me see."_

" _No."_

" _Aster, you're being ridiculous. What if there's an infection?"_

" _I'll die faster then."_

 _Her eyebrows formed a tiny black V, and her hands blurred suddenly. My neck was bared. I felt her gasp before I heard it; a puff of cold breath on my throat. Her fingers examined the fresh bites, at least three of them, gaping red and oozing. I felt the bile rise in my throat. Had he really bitten me_ three _times? I hardly remembered…_

 _Renata was dabbing on some ointment. It stung. "I'm so sorry, Aster," she apologized. "I didn't realize…" She shook her head in disbelief. "I didn't know. I thought it was only once."_

" _It's even better than that," I said dully. "Once a week, he said. Unless he forgets, of course."_

 _Her lovely eyes were distraught. "I am sorry." She continued to smear on the terrible stuff. "Try to see things in a positive light," she whispered. "At least he didn't… well… rape you."_

 _My voice was softer than hers. "He's raped my soul, Renata. There is no crueler punishment."_

 _She had no answer._

 ** _October 29_ _th_ _,_**

 _Feeding time. Just like Renata predicted. I'm waiting for Heidi's step along the hallway. She's been growing more and more unfriendly towards me lately, although whether it's jealousy or pure hatred, I don't know. Personally, I think she's just tired of serving me, waiting on me, feeding me… I can hardly blame her. A vampire was not born to play maid, I'm sure. But anything is better than Felix and Demetri, dragging me down the hall like some animal carcass._

 ** _Later…_**

 _I want to pray, but I don't know any prayers. My dad grew up in a Catholic family, and we all practiced religion indifferently. I didn't know if I believe in heaven or not. I still don't know. But in answer to my question earlier: yes, this_ is _hell, and yes, I_ do _believe._

 ** _Midnight…?_**

 _I'm too frightened to sleep, which is ironic, since this next entry would send anyone into the most lucid nightmare._

 _Oh, help me! I don't know any prayers. Why don't I know any prayers? Why don't I know… anything?! I'm completely secluded here, except to taste the next new horror. When I entered the marble room yesterday—the "counseling room", as they call it—I was not placed on the corner steps by the pillars, but on the main ones, directly in front of Aro's throne. He and Marcus entered soon enough, followed by the rest of the guard. I could feel his eyes on me, like some parasitic spider. His eyes were black. There was no iris, no pupil. Remember that list I made, the stupid one on vampires? It seems ages ago now. I tried to assemble what I knew of vampires to explain this, but I wasn't thinking straight at that point. I knew what would follow soon. I knew what would happen when those doors opened, admitting Heidi's smug, modeled face._

Why are they black? _I kept repeating._ Why in _God's_ name are they black?!

 _Aro brushed my shoulder, his sweet breath on my ear. "Black is thirsty, little one," he whispered._

 _I clenched my fists, but he was gone, sitting above me like some terrible, vengeful god. "Come in, Heidi," he called in a clear voice._

 _The doors opened, and a cry broke from my lips._

 _Aro's cold fingers tugged my hair, yanking it once painfully. "Not yet, my sweet," I heard him say. "You'll frighten our guests." He released me. "Welcome, dear friends! Close the doors please, Heidi."_

 _I bit my thumb, forcing down my screams. They were all teenagers. Every one of them. The youngest looked about thirteen, holding her sister's hand tightly. I cringed when she stared at me. She looked like my cousin, with fair hair and light brown eyes. I wondered at Aro, seating me in such a conspicuous place. The difference between the Volturi and I was swiftly becoming apparent. Fear was rising, as I'd seen before, spreading thick and fast through the crowd._

" _Save the youngest," Aro sang out, and the room erupted in motion, punctuated by screams and shouts._

 _It was worse than ever before. A hundred times worse. Not only was I reliving each moment, but I was seeing myself in their eyes. They were all so young. They had so much before them. I had borne the adults, the elderly… I could not bear this._

 _I stood up, casting my eyes around quickly. One of the boys had tripped, cracking a loose piece of marble before being dragged away by those awful vampire children. I lunged forward, seizing it. In a desperate moment, I drew it sharply towards my chest…_

 _My body flew backwards, skidding across the floor. Felix tossed the shard contemptuously aside. I felt myself being lifted, set down roughly by the thrones._

" _Nice try," he laughed. He caught a shrieking girl, snapping her arm as he brought her neck around to his mouth. The blood was running on the steps again. I was drenched in it. The foul smell kept me awake, much as I wished to black out entirely._

 _Aro stood behind me. His mouth was clean, wiped daintily with a cloth he held in his hand. He tossed it carelessly to the floor, then lifted his hand for silence. "Did you save the little one, Felix?" he asked._

 _I saw what he meant in a moment. The thirteen-year-old, the one who looked like Susie, was being dragged towards me. Her nose was bleeding, as if she'd fallen._

" _A little closer," Aro encouraged. "Let's not be rude to our guest."_

 _Felix obeyed him. His iron fingers stayed locked around her fragile arms. Aro bent towards her, touching her cheek. "What is your name,_ bella mia?"

 _She sobbed something. It sounded like "Karen."_

" _Are you frightened, Karen?" he whispered._

" _Yes," she said. Tears spilled over her cheeks and lips. I was beginning to cry myself._

" _Do you want it to go away?"_

 _She closed her eyes. "Please."_

 _He kissed her cheek softly. "We will make it go away, love, I promise. But first I need your help with something."_

 _He turned to me, eyes red with blood, as if to say,_ This is for you. This is _your_ fault, because you will not obey me. _"Go ahead, Felix," he said softly._

 _Karen screamed as the huge vampire dug his teeth into her shoulder. The sound of cloth tearing was like a lash in the silence. I could hear Demetri tittering behind me. I watched, my eyes frozen, as he moved to her neck, sucking and licking the blood as it ran into his mouth. She kept screaming, torturing me. Felix finally slapped her, knocking her senseless. It was well enough, considering what he was doing to her poor body. He was malicious._

 _He stepped away finally, grinning at Aro. "Grazie, my lord."_

 _Something whispered past us. I looked up just in time to see Marcus' tall body slip through a back door. He could not bear it, either, yet seeing him leave broke something inside of me. I walked down the steps, half-crawling, blindly reaching for the remains of her clothing. No one stopped me. I stretched it over her, covering as many of the bites as I could. She lay in blood, but her lips were turning blue. She was dead._

 _I whirled around, finding Aro's gaze. The hate in my voice was transparent. "Get me out of here," I whispered. "I never want to be in this room again."_

 _He watched me, maddening amusement in his eyes. "Ah, but this was all for_ you, _Aster," he said softly. "But you are right. It is over now. Heidi?"_

 _Heidi's nails dug into my flesh, pulling me back. I looked at Aro. His eyes shone with recent slaughter, of the murder of dozens. He smiled at me. I looked away, at the girl—Karen. Although there was no way I could have saved her, I imagined I saw betrayal in her eyes. Could I have warned her? Cried out the truth before Felix sank his teeth in her flesh? It might have prepared her. At least she would have died knowing she had a friend, a fellow sufferer._

 _These thoughts have tormented me, ever since Heidi left me here. I still have the prints of her grip on my arms. She whirled on me before leaving, her hand on the door._

" _Why are you doing this?" she demanded. "Why don't you just give in?"_

 _She slammed the door, not waiting for a reply. Why don't I? A good question, yet she should know the answer better than me now._


	21. Chapter 21

**_October 30_ _th_ _,_**

 _It's so quiet here. Vampires make no noise when they walk, unless they wish it, so I'm constantly being taken unawares. Renata knocks, so as not to frighten me, but she's kind. Everyone else gives me the chills. Sometimes, when using the bathroom (Heidi calls it "the lavatory"), I catch sight of them; wraith-like figures on the walls. It's enough to give one nightmares. Sometimes I recognize them—Caius, Demetri, or one of the children. More often than not it's a stranger, with a pale face that slips through my memory. These terrifying unknowns are a daily experience for me, along with other sweet surprises Aro undoubtedly has planned._

 _Four more days. My burns are healing. The cuts are nonexistent. The very fact that I've survived this long gives me fresh strength._

You're ok, _I tell myself._ You're alive. You have two people you can trust, and that's more than one usually finds in hell. Inhale. Exhale. _Breathe…_

 ** _November 1_ _st_ _,_**

 _He's back._

 _Renata was in my room late this evening, and it didn't take long for the ice to freeze on my spine._

" _He's back."_

 _When she first spoke, my scream sounded stifled. "He can't be back. He can't be." That's what I said. Repeatedly. Until that point, I don't think I realized what a nervous wreck I'd become. Once sarcastic and controlled, I was now a raving sufferer, induced to tears at the slightest provocation._

 _This was no exception._

" _You must understand," she pleaded, trying to calm me. "You_ must _believe me. I had no part in this. You know that, don't you?"_

" _Oh, stop it, Renata!" I cried. "Of_ course _I do!" I gnawed my fingernails. "Why is he back? I can't... It's too soon."_

" _Relax, Aster."_

 _I squeezed her hands, cold as they were. "You have to delay him somehow. You have more voice than I do. Ask Aro… he will listen to you…"_

 _She sighed. "It's not that simple, Aster—"_

" _Yes, it_ is!" _I was frantic. "If he comes for me again, I'll die! Is there_ any _simpler way to put it?!"_

" _You don't know that."_

 _I shoved away from her, walking towards the bed. I felt like bashing out my brains on the bedpost. Renata followed me._

" _Maybe I'm wrong," she admitted. "Maybe it will be longer than I thought until he sends for you. Caius was in a sour mood, Aster, when he returned. I overheard him talking to Aro. Apparently, he'd gone to help an acquaintance, but it ended up not being worthwhile. They really didn't need him at all." She shrugged. "I don't understand it. Our kind are not so careless."_

" _Perfect," I groaned. "He's not just back, but he's in a_ bad _mood."_

" _Let me finish! Since torture is one of Caius' favorite pursuits, why would he want you if he's so displeased? I've seen him like this before. He mostly sulks by himself, snapping out at everyone. He doesn't do torture."_

 _I turned to her slowly. "Are you sure, Renata?"_

" _I'm only telling you what I've noticed." She held my hand. "I'm trying to give you hope."_

 _I squeezed her hand in return. "Let's hope you're right," I said._

 _She smiled. "That's better."_

 _My sleep was still uneasy, but her words helped. I'm trying so hard to convince myself, I've almost completely succeeded. Maybe I'll be left alone for now._

 ** _November 2_ _nd_ _,_**

 _Another item for that stupid list:_

 _\- vampires have no central heating_

 _It is growing so cold here. This morning, when I reached for the mug of water by my bed, a large glob of ice smacked me in the lip. It still feels tender. I'm telling you, if it weren't for this diary, I think I would have gone raving mad by now. I'm never unsure of the date, and I have someone (or something) to talk to when there's no one else._

 _I know I've only seen him several times, but… I miss Aro's brother, Marcus. The last time I saw him, he was disappearing out the door, avoiding what I was forced to see. I wish he could have taken me with him. I wish he visited more often. Perhaps he regrets befriending me. From the way he reacted to my injuries over a week ago, I can only surmise he doesn't_ want _to see me. It hurts him too much, probably, to see me like this._

 _Then again, I can't complain. My burns are almost healed, although I will certainly have permanent scars. Aro has not visited me, and the bites have had time to close over. They still hurt me, though. Sometimes I'll wake at night, stiff with the cold, and they'll be throbbing, as if begging to be opened again._

 _For heaven's sake, Aster, you say. Are your thoughts really_ that _morbid?_

 _Much later…_

 _It's no use. I can't sleep. I long to ask Heidi for another blanket (perhaps two), but she's literally dropped all communication with me now. Maybe I can persuade Renata to steal one for me…?_

 _But the cold isn't the only reason I'm awake. I've been thinking, which is extremely dangerous, considering what my life has been for the past couple months._

 _I've been thinking about Mom._

 _I've never told you about her, have I? Yet I seem to remembering promising it awhile back (funny, but it feels like centuries now). It hurts to mention her_ and _my dad, but what can I do? It keeps my mind away from Caius. If I picture my mother's face, sweetly concerned for me, than maybe I won't see those horrible eyes._

 _Like I said, my mom's name was Michelle. Her name was Fields before she married my dad. She was an only child, like me. I never saw my grandparents on her side. They disapproved strongly of her marriage to dad, as it took her away from her studies at the university. Not that she was pregnant with me—my dad was too honorable for that—but she was afraid that if she waited, he would marry some gorgeous Columbian maiden with tresses of raven hair to her waist. That was nonsense too, of course. My dad never loved anyone but my mom. I was so young when they died, but love can have such a powerful impact growing up, just as abuse can. I can't remember them quarreling. Ever. I know, I know. I sound like I'm bragging. Wouldn't you?_

 _My dad was beautiful, but my mom was even more so. I've often wished I inherited her physical traits. She had these stunning green eyes—emerald, almost—and when she smiled they would light up, dancing about like fireworks. "Just about made your heart stop," I remember my dad telling me. Her skin was tan, although not as dark as his, and her hair… Oh, she had such beautiful hair. It was straight as mine, but glossy, not dull. And it was as fair as ours was black. Like sunlight skipping across an ocean._

 _She was kind. She was… radiant. I can't think of a different word. If my dad was the sun, then she was the light. If I believed in any angel, she was the perfect model for one. She gave me her name, and I didn't feel worthy of it. Because I wasn't her._ No one _could be her. She was irreplaceable._

 _Oh, crap. I just screwed up this page. This isn't the first time I've cried while writing, but it's the first time I've cried while writing of_ her. _I regret this already, this pain. But… it's there, isn't it? She's there, on the page, smiling at me._ Thank God, _she's whispering._ Hang in there, lovie.

 _When I saw my parents after the crash, I was terrified that I would remember them that way forever, and forget anything else. But Fate was in my favor. As the years went by, that broken image of them has faded. I see them better than ever before. When my face was branded, or my raw skin stung from the whip, I saw them. The worse the pain, the clearer their love. It's something to look forward to, I suppose. However damaged I am in the future, I can still hope to see them. It's a tearful consolation._

 _Oh, and just for the record, Mom? You can call me Michelle._


	22. Chapter 22

**" _I've got to tell someone_**

 ** _Tell them what I know you've done."_**

 ** _November 11_ _th_ _,_**

 _I have not written for a long time, if you've noticed, and not just because I was physically incapable. My heart just isn't in it anymore. I know I've said this journal is a way to keep me from insanity, but… can_ anything _help me at this point?_

 _I will not tell you what happened. I know I told you Caius was back, but…_

 _No. Stop it, Aster. Don't think… don't ever think. Thinking is poison. I've come to believe the brain is no more than a useless instrument, designed to drive one insane. What help has it been to me in hell? What fascinating escape have I devised; what adventures?_

 _I'm cold. I'm hungry. I'm hurting so freaking bad I can't even think. Language I've never used before comes spilling out of my mouth, barely avoiding these pages. I curse everyone from Aro to myself to the horrible fate that brought me here in the first place._

 _It hurts, Mom and Dad. I can hardly breathe for the pain._

 _Who am I talking to? Are you listening?!_

 ** _November 13_ _th_ _,_**

 _I've been moved. Aro caught me writing yesterday, when he came to take what he wanted from me._

" _I confess, my dear girl, I'm growing quite tired of this book of yours. Shall I read it, do you suppose? I'm sure you have many flattering comments about us."_

 _He looked down at where I lay on bloodstained sheets. "Did you hear me, Aster?"_

" _Please," I whispered. "Please don't. It's all I have."_

" _All you have?" he chuckled. "You make it sound so dramatic. Very well, then. You can keep your book, but I think it's about time we started singing a different tune."_

 _He snapped his fingers. Seconds later, I found myself airborne, being carried by someone much stronger than I was. Their arms jostled me about roughly. I must have cried out at some point, for I heard Aro tsking sympathetically as he followed us. We went down, down, for what seemed forever, until finally they deposited me in this…_

 _Dungeon. There's no other word for it. It's small, cramped, leaks moldy water, and I swear I can hear the rats at night, scurrying with sick movements above my head. It is also terribly cold; much more so than my old room. At least I had a blanket and a bed. I have nothing now. They won't even feed me. I can only pray this is the final trick up Aro's sleeve._

 ** _November 17_ _th_**

 _I can't sleep. I don't even know what time of day it is. There's no way to tell here. No windows. No clocks. My body is shivering too badly to relax. The constant movements give me terrible agony. How long does it take for a rib to heal? I'm so frightened of the pain; you think I'd be numb to it by now. But I can't—I shouldn't complain. Maybe I should be grateful he only broke one. Maybe I should rejoice it isn't piercing any internal organs. Maybe I should—_

 _Stop it! Just... stop._

 ** _November 18_ _th_ _,_**

 _Forced myself to write again today, although I'm exhausted after so little sleep last night. Please, please don't let him take Renata from me! I wouldn't mind seeing Marcus, either, but his presence here is even less of an option. He hasn't spoken to me since he carried me from that horrible room._

 ** _November 21_ _st_ _,_**

 _She came! I feel like such a baby right now, the tears rolling down my cheeks. I would have mauled her when she walked in the door, but I can still barely move my arms._

" _Hello, love." She hugged me, very gently, and immediately began tending to my needs. "I brought you something," she whispered._

 _My stomach groaned as she pulled a soft roll from inside her cloak. I held it in my hands for a moment, just appreciating its smooth texture and warm, buttery smell. Finally, at her coaxing, I bit into it. A moan escaped me._

" _Do you like it?" she asked. Her smile warmed my heart, despite the fangs. ._

" _God, yes. Where did you find it?"_

" _It was in the pocket of one of my—" She stopped, blushing a little. "I just… found it. Go on. Eat every bite."_

 _I knew what she was going to say, but didn't think of it. I wanted to keep my appetite until every last, glorious crumb was gone. I looked at her pleadingly for more, but she shook her head. "Even if I_ could _find where Aro stores food for guests, I could only give you a bit at a time, Aster. He was complaining just the other day about how tasteless your blood was. Don't you think he'd notice if you started gorging?"_

 _My lips spread in a chapped grin. I'd always wanted to get back at him somehow. "Do you think that means he'll stop coming?"_

" _I don't know. You've worn their patience so thin, Aster." She looked sadly at me. "I don't see much hope for you now."_

" _That's alright," I said, patting her arm. "I never saw any to begin with."_

 ** _November 25_ _th_**

 _So strange. For the past four nights now, I've woken in the middle of the night to find a large fur robe draped over me. It's very heavy, almost like a bear's fur, and smells rather queer. I always fall asleep again, toasty warm, but in the morning it's gone. Is it Renata? Do I have another good angel? She barely looks fit enough to carry such a thing, but then again I'm forgetting a vampire's strength._

 ** _the 29_ _th_ _?_**

 _I'm sorry I'm not keeping up with the dates, but my mind is starved for nourishment just as well as my body. It's so difficult to think. The cramping is getting worse. Knives tease my chest._

 _One day later…_

 _Renata left a note in my cell last night. I can barely move, but she had scrunched it up, pressing it into my hand while I slept._

 _My hand's shaking while I write, but I might as well put it down here. The first lines were scribbled in a foreign tongue, then quickly replaced by English:_

"He's keeping me from you. I'm sorry. I was stupid to think I could get away with the food. I care for you so much. Please, please keep fighting."

 _I could kick myself, just reading this again. "Of course," I groan aloud. "He reads minds."_

 _Aro doesn't come anymore, for which I'm thankful, but… but that means_ no one _comes. Ever_

 _It's quiet again._


	23. Chapter 23

**_A week later?_**

 _It's amazing what people are driven to by starvation. I'd probably be driven to devour a rat if I could catch the wretched things. Heaven knows what_ they _eat in these molding walls…_

 ** _No idea…_**

 _Blood stains all over this book. I'm going mad with the hunger. My stomach is screaming. My nails are sharp. I tear, rip, bite my arms, trying to release some of the red substance inside. It's warm and sour, trickling down my chin. This page is hopelessly ruined. I'm so hungry. So terribly hungry… Aro would laugh to see me now. God, how he would laugh!_

 ** _Sometime in December…_**

 _Demetri visited me today. His hair was tousled and wet, and bits of frost stuck to his dark clothing (hence the assumed date). He only had one question for me._

" _Is your answer still no?" he asked shortly._

 _I looked up through bleary eyes. "You're damn right it is."_

 _His lips curled into a sneer. "Very well, then." He left, slamming the door so hard I heard the rats scatter. I was glad to see him go. His eyes were coal-black. Like an empty space on a page. Considering my recent maddened state, I'm not sure it's the best idea for_ any _vampire to see me, anyway._

" _Is this what it felt like?" I ask the air, but I'm talking to my parents. Was it quick and sudden? Or did they know the semi was coming, skidding across the road in a violent effort to keep control, while my parents watched in slow-motion?_

 _The pains are quieter now. All I do is sleep. Restless, yet merciful sleep._

 ** _Later…_**

 _Forgive my kindergarten scrawl. I'm doing my best._

 _A horrible thing happened today. I woke up to something tickling my shoulder, then screamed when I realized it was a rat's tail. There were two of them, crouching by my arm and licking the swollen cuts. I knocked them back with all the force left in my body. And yet… I must confess I felt pity. They are starving, too._

 _Have to stop now. This pen is like jelly in my hands._

 ** _?_**

 _Strange dreams… some terrible, some not. Clouds and hills rolling together, swimming in a myriad of pinks, grays, and indigos. A world without sunlight. Dad holding my hand, buying me my first stick of cotton candy. He laughed when I did, slurping up the airy sugar. Hunger. Pain. I saw Mom's face at one point, only it became my own, sunken beyond recognition. A hand reached out, dripping with wax, and I woke up screaming._

 ** _?_**

 _I'm so cold. I think Aro found out about the robes, too. My fingers have no feeling, nor does the rest of my body. My chest gasps now and then, haunted by pain, but for the most part I'm silent._

 _I'm afraid I've failed you, dear diary. I promised I'd hang on—I promised Renata, my parents, and even myself. Am I? I don't know. Could you call this "hanging on?" Could you even call it fighting back? What can we do but fail in our courage when our own body has failed us? Well, I have a secret. I can't do it anymore. I will not fight anymore._

 _I've lived here for not even a year, and yet I think I've aged more than a lifetime. I've watched everything I hold dear crumble to little shards, lodging their pointy fingers into my body. They are there, not to help me forget, but to make me remember._

 _They are cruel._

 _I have watched the supernatural grow out of nothing. I have watched demons—more terrible in life than any religion—seize and demolish the very beauty and sweetness of what is known as human life. I have watched them take my own life, for the mere sake of manipulation._

 _My arm is shaking. I cut it again last night in an effort to feed, and the loss has made me weaker. I can't even cry for my own sake now, much less for anyone else's. My tears are as dried up as my body._

 _No… don't stop, Aster. Don't stop… Mom and Dad, if you're listening, I just want to say that I love you, and as corny as it may sound… you are my world. Dead or not, they can't take from me what I hold tight in my heart. You can't rip out a soul. The only way to do that would be damnation, and I have said "no" to them again and again…_

 _I love you, Mom and Dad. I love you, Renata… Marcus. Yes, I even love you, Uncle David, because you suffered a fate similar to mine. I love you, Aunt May; my cousins, friends… I even love this book. I love the blood on it, the tears. Each page is scarred with a different memory. Some are unbearable, but they are MINE._ Mine _to read._ Mine _to possess._

"Damn _you, Aro!" I cry out. I'm laughing. The tears finally come, falling and healing._ "Damn _you! You do_ not _own my heart! You will_ not _have my soul!"_

 _Oh, gosh, this feels wonderful. I'm alive, I'm here. I'm still breathing. I love you, Mom. Love you, Dad. My heart is going to burst from love…_

 _Good-night._


	24. Chapter 24

"Ah…"

The ancient's face fell, and his hand flew upwards, curving around his ultra-smooth chin. "You are quite certain?" he asked again.

"Quite, my lord."

He sighed. "Oh, I _am_ sorry to hear that." His hand dropped to his side again. "So very, very sorry."

The woman tapped her heels impatiently. "I have the estimate, my lord, if you wish to see it."

Aro sighed again. "Ah, yes. We mustn't neglect _that._ Not in the least…" He rose from his chair, and she quickly curtsied, falling behind him as he glided slowly from the room. They continued in this way, the master and the servant, through a maze of lights, paintings, and winding aisles, until she coughed very slightly.

"This door, Heidi?" he asked.

"Yes… I think."

Aro entered. It was almost pitch black, but that is nothing to an immortal. His sharp eyes scanned every corner, 'til at last they found what he was searching for. A cry of delight broke from his lips. "Oh, it is _too_ perfect!"

Heidi followed him closely. "You like it, my lord?"

The vampire ran his fingers along the wood. "Very good," he whispered. "I declare, Lignin gets better ever year."

Heidi pulled a small clipboard from her pocket. Her face was hidden in shadow. "I have it all here—price and all—as well as the material wood. Is it long enough, my lord?"

"Yes. Better to have it too long than too short." He smiled up at her. "You see? I _do_ know about these things."

A hollow laugh. "Of course."

"Make it satin. Silver and crimson, with an added varnish on the lid. I want it to be…" Aro lifted a white hand, searching for a word. "Stunning. Regal."

Heidi stepped forward, scribbling down notes, and made another quick measurement. The tape coiled about her fingers like it was alive.

Her master was sighing. "I confess I wish legend attached itself more closely to our kind," he said regretfully. "It must be so luxurious to sleep in one of these." His hand came down tenderly on the coffin—for it _was_ a coffin—as if imagining his own banished rest. "But then, we should fear the sun, as well. And I _do_ love it so."

His red eyes were dreamy, clouded. Then, with a gesture, he motioned her away. "Not a word," he whispered after her. "Remember…"

"You have my discretion, my lord."

"Be assured that I do, Heidi."

She closed the door, leaving Aro to his semi-morbid thoughts. He bent down, brushing the gleaming coffin with his lips. "Yes," he whispered to himself. "You will lie there, my sweet, surrounded by the best I can give you, because you never accepted what I gave you in life." The red orbs dimmed, almost compassionately. "Oh, Aster. You poor, foolish, _stubborn_ child…"

* * *

Renata sobbed quietly, wiping at her dry eyes. The coffin lay between them, but Marcus barely seemed to acknowledge it. He had retreated into the deepest part of himself. Grief had not been this fresh; no, not for many years. He was not ready to unearth it... nor would he. There is only so much pain you can experience in a lifetime, even with an immortal's self-control.

It was true that she was only a human. But he would miss her.

To distract himself, the ancient rested a hand gently on Renata's shoulder. "This was inevitable," he whispered to her.

She glowered up at him, and he stepped back in surprise. He'd never seen gentle, sweet Renata angry before. "I am sorry," he said.

Her face softened then. "Just don't say that," she pleaded. "Please. It's too early…"

She trailed off, gazing back at the coffin, but Marcus understood. He touched her shoulder, and this time she didn't brush him off. They could have been statues, standing there in complete silence. There was no lengthening of the shadows as day became night, but the candles on the wall flickered a little weaker. Renata shuddered as one died out, but she did not disrupt the silence. It was respect for Aster.

"Why?" she said finally, after another hour had passed.

Marcus glanced at her.

"Why must I—and you—feel this way? Why do we not have the immunity of our kind?"

"We are not the only ones with empathy, Renata."

She bowed her head. "In the coven? Yes, we are."

"Aro felt Aster's loss, as well." The words sounded hollow, even to Marcus. "Or at least he _believes_ he does."

"He doesn't," she interrupted. "He doesn't… he can't…"

Marcus watched her struggling features, and sympathy swelled in his breast. She surpassed all of them in her loyalty for Aro, even Jane. She respected him considerably. What must she be thinking now, after all that passed? How could she justify Aster's death in a way that she could live with? The transcendent shades of emotion flitted over her face; grief following anger, anger following pain.

"Marcus," she whispered finally.

He turned to her. "Yes?"

"What was her gift?" Her lips trembled. "What was it Aro wanted so badly?"

The ancient shook his head. "To think I started all this… It was nothing phenomenal, Renata, like your gift, or even lethal like Jane's. I saw inside her, though only for a moment. I _sensed_ her, and Aro latched onto the fantasy with more enthusiasm than I could have expected. It became not so much a desire for Aster's talent, but a mere test of endurance. Would Aro have let her die, do you suppose, if her gift had been truly valuable?"

"But what did you see?" the little vampire pleaded. "What could possibly have fascinated him, for however short a time?"

Marcus almost smiled. "I saw her strength," he said softly. "I saw her detachment from others, although it was Aro who later told me why. I saw her beauty as a person, her courage." He drew a deep breath. "It was that distrust of people that attracted him most, I think. He saw none of her goodness."

"Perhaps he did," Renata said. "He always told me he thought she was a beautiful girl."

Marcus looked at her. "That beautiful girl now lies before us."

A shudder passed through Renata's body. She covered her little face. "Oh, I can't bear it!" she cried helplessly. "I _can't_ defend him… I can't…"

Marcus watched her sadly. "One human among many," he whispered. "You'd wonder why we cared so much."

"That's what I was asking you. _Why_ this empathy? Why any feeling at all?"

"Surely you don't wish to be less human?"

"No… I don't know what I want." She gazed up with agonized eyes. "Good God, Marcus, we've been hardened for centuries, eons of time. How could there be a spark of feeling left?"

He looked away. His pale hand brushed down the coffin edge, then traveled slowly up to his waistcoat. A single flower, white and gleaming, appeared in his fingers. Despite Renata's soft moan, he opened the lid, laying the flower on Aster's lips. He looked up at her then, and there was something strange about his eyes.

"Thank God for that spark," he said quietly. "It has haunted me all my immortal life, but without it…" He shook his head. "I would not wish to live."

Renata glided forward softly. She slipped her hand through his large one. There was nothing to be said. They both sensed the darkness outside, rising slowly to swallow the day. As the minutes passed, the ancient's hand could be seen dimly, stroking her dark hair. They didn't seal up the coffin; no, not even after they'd quitted the room. It seemed more appropriate, letting the dead girl "breathe" in the cool air, instead of being shut up like she'd been in her last hours.

Renata left Marcus at his chamber, then walked slowly back to her own. The pain still ached inside her, but with less intensity. She felt it might be possible to go on now, knowing Aster's agony was at rest. And why not? Even immortals had to find ways to cope with eternity.

" _I saw her strength… her goodness…"_

A smile lifted Renata's mouth, settling tenderly in her dark eyes. _So did I._

* * *

 ** _September 1_ _st_**

… _isn't high school anymore, Aunt May. But anyway…_ _Heidi promised to show us some of Michelangelo's work. Maybe da Vinci as well. Either way, I'm excited. This is such a beautiful place. I feel such peace here—more than I've ever felt in my life, except with my mom and dad. Did you ever come here, Daddy? Did you come to Europe, you and she together? I never knew about their past lives, but I was too young to care very much. Now they're gone, and I'm still asking questions. "Do you know I'm here?" "Can you see me?"_

 _I'm in Volterra. Such a beautiful place. The days are slow and dreamy, weighed down by sunlight. The nights are even longer. The air is perfumed. Someone sings "Il Sole Mio" down the street._

 _Goodnight, Mom and Dad. Love you._


End file.
